


Clandestine Cupid

by orangina



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, Friendship, M/M, Silly Drama, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangina/pseuds/orangina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Müller and Mats Hummels are two of the least popular people at their high school. But when Valentine's Day comes around and their school is selling candy grams, can they step up their game - and their courage - to woo their crushes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I am ridiculously excited about this fic and couldn't wait until Valentine's Day to post it. I'm guessing that it'll end up being around 5 or 6 chapters. I will give away nothing else :)

Every year at Thomas’ high school, the student government sold Valentine’s Day grams called Clandestine Cupids.

A large crowd was gathered around the booth in the hallway, but Thomas was not one among the crowd. He thought that the grams were a waste of money. They costed 5€, and all you got to do was fill out a slip of paper and then they’d attach it with ribbons to a bag stuffed with sweets and chocolate and deliver it anonymously or not to your crush during 3rd period on the 14th.

The whole secret admirer thing stirred the student body into a frenzy of excitement. Everyone wanted to get one, and those who were lucky enough to get one received the added bonus of an instant popularity boost - which lasted only about two weeks until everyone forgot about Valentine’s Day, but hey, everyone has to have their 15 minutes of fame at _some_ point in their lives.

Even awkward, clumsy Thomas Müller, who couldn’t get a date to save his life and who also, by the way, thought the whole thing was stupid and overrated, couldn’t help but peer over at the table longingly. No one had sent him a gram last year or the year before, and he wasn’t expecting one this year either. But still. It couldn’t hurt to hope, right?

\---

Thomas and his friend Mats were eating lunch on the staircase. This was not unusual as they ate their lunches together on the staircase Monday through Friday, September through June. At first, it had been because the both of them were not cool enough to sit at an actual table and had therefore been demoted early on in their freshman year to their choice of either Mr. Hummels’ classroom or the staircase. After a lengthy argument, Mats won and they settled on the staircase. (It was already embarrassing enough, he claimed, to have his father teach the nerdiest subject of all, computer science, at the same school he went to, but eating _lunch_ in there with him would surely be a death sentence.) Over time, though, it had become sort of a routine of comfort, and Thomas had to admit that the staircase was fairly luxurious. Not only was there a great big window that overlooked the back of the school - perfect for catching their fellow students ditch class in the act - but it was  _quiet_ , too. Finding peace and quiet in a high school of all places is a difficult if not impossible task, yet Thomas Müller and Mats Hummels, the self-proclaimed most underrated losers in their grade, had managed to do it.

Thomas was absentmindedly twirling a hunk of spaghetti (leftovers from last night) around his fork. He couldn’t stop thinking about those damn Clandestine Cupids. He told himself it was stupid and that he didn’t care, but the whole thing was still hitting him particularly hard this year for some reason.

He watched as Bastian Schweinsteiger and his football cronies left through the back of the school, probably to go smoke weed so they wouldn’t have to endure the great inconvenience of making it through one or two classes without being high.

Thomas’ fork clattered against his Gladware container as he dropped it. He sighed and leaned back against the brick wall, earning himself a sympathetic look from Mats, who was sitting cross-legged and shoveling Cheez Doodles into his mouth as fast as he could keep up with chewing and swallowing them.

“What’s up?” Mats asked as soon as he’d swallowed most of what he’d just put into his mouth. He wiped the orange powder off his lips with the back of his hand, which he then wiped on his jeans.

“I don’t know,” Thomas answered after a while.

“You aren’t still upset about the whole Clandestine Cupid thing, are you?”

Thomas shook his head in a way that indicated his answer was more of a ‘yes’ than a ‘no’.

“Damn…” Mats muttered.

“I just want to get one Clandestine Cupid before I graduate. _One._ Is that really too much to ask for?”

“I don’t know what to say. You know that I’m no help,” Mats said, sucking on his fingers one by one and very much proving his point. He pulled his index finger out of his mouth with a loud popping noise. “I mean, unless you want _me_ to send you one.”

“Nah,” said Thomas. Mats wasn’t exactly his dream Clandestine Cupid, but he appreciated the offer.

“Just thought I’d ask,” Mats shrugged.

“You gonna send one to Benedikt?” Thomas made an attempt to shift the subject of the conversation away from his own woes.

Mats’ eyes went wide. “Oh, _hell_ no. He would kill me. Literally _kill_ me, if he ever found out that I was the one who sent it to him.”

Thomas laughed even though he knew that his friend was half serious. “Well, it can’t hurt, can it?”

“Thomas, you don’t understand. I’m actually _trying_ to get Benedikt, unlike you, so yes, it can hurt. I need to talk to him in person at least once before I take things to the next level.”

Thomas just stared at him. Really, Mats could be just plain dumb sometimes because hell was going to freeze over and pigs would fly before the day Mats Hummels and Benedikt Höwedes were caught within twenty yards of one another.

“What?” Mats said innocently. “Would _you_ send Neuer a Clandestine Cupid without even talking to him first? That’s a sign of fear. It’s a cowardly move. Who wants to date a coward?”

“When, exactly,” Thomas wanted to know, “did you become an expert on this?”

“I learn through my many failures, and yes, I am referring to that incident in middle school involving Marco Reus when I thought it would be a good idea to get his number from Erik Durm, who got it from Matthias Ginter, who got it from Julian Draxler, who was assigned to do a project with Marco and had to exchange numbers with him.”

“Wait, didn’t Marco get his number changed after that though?”

“That’s what the old rumors say,” Mats said with great seriousness.

“Well, I’m really glad that I have you to model myself after,” Thomas replied sarcastically.

At the same time however, Mats had given him an idea. A wild one, but an idea nonetheless. Maybe he _could_ cough up 5€ and send Manu a Clandestine Cupid… It was certainly a step in the right direction. They say that a little mystery is a good thing.

While Thomas was considering the fact that maybe karma was the reason he had never gotten a Clandestine Cupid and that maybe he just needed to _send_ one and then he’d get one next year, Mats ripped open his now empty package of Cheez Doodles and began to lick the last bits of powder off the inside with no shame whatsoever.

Thomas made a face.

Mats’ sense of hygiene was even more tragic than Thomas’ potential to get a date. But despite how disgusting he was most of the time, Thomas wouldn’t change his best and only friend for the world.

\---

Manuel and Benedikt were best friends and always had been. They were both wildly popular and stars of the school football team. With their perfectly gelled hair and their perfect grades and their designer clothes and rich parents, neither of them seemed to be flawed in any way. Beneath the surface, however, there’s always a little tension.

And that tension arose from a little secret that Benedikt had: He’d never actually gotten a Clandestine Cupid before. Of course, he bought at least three and sent them to _himself_ every year for his image’s sake, but the ones he sent himself were the only ones that he ever got.

He simply didn’t understand. He was good-looking and desirable and he knew it. Was someone stopping his piles of Clandestine Cupids from getting delivered to him each year out of envy? Was he just too out of reach that his admirers didn’t even bother trying with him?

It had to be one of those reasons, because Benedikt refused to believe anything else.

Manuel received one or two Clandestine Cupids every year - and all of them came from people who weren’t Manuel Neuer.

Naturally, Benedikt was a little jealous of his best friend.

He didn’t show it, though. He had to act like the Benedikt Höwedes that everyone knew and loved. He couldn’t be seen pouting or arguing with his best friend, and he couldn’t let his emotions get in the way of his performance on the football field. He was looking to be recruited to one of the best colleges in the country for football, and one slip could cost him his dream.

So he kept his mouth shut and his chin high as he walked past the crowded booth in the hallway. He didn’t need any worthless Clandestine Cupid from some hopeless low life to know his self-worth, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be posted everyday until Valentine's Day, after which I'll wrap things up.
> 
> Hope you like it!

Valentine’s Day was getting closer and closer, the deadline to reserve Clandestine Cupids was in a couple days, and Thomas was beginning to panic.

Should he or should he not?

He was pacing back and forth across the landing of the stairwell, weighing his options while Mats glared up at him in annoyance.

“Dude, can you sit down? I’m trying to enjoy my lunch and it’s kinda hard when you’re up there huffing and puffing over your nonexistent love life.”

“Shut up! I was just about to make a decision before you interrupted me!” Thomas exclaimed. He rubbed his hands over his face in dismay.

“How hard can it be?” Mats said, peeling the skin carefully off of his banana. “Just flip a coin or something. Save yourself some stress.”

Thomas stopped pacing and frowned thoughtfully. “You know what?”

“Fwha?” Mats said through a great bite of banana.

“You’re right. Heads or tails?”

“Heads!”

Thomas kneeled down and started to dig through his backpack for a coin. “Okay. Heads I send him one, tails I don’t. Ready?”

“Ready,” Mats said, scooting in closer to the other boy to get a better look at the small coin.

Thomas balanced the coin between his thumb and his pointer finger, ready to flip it, before he turned his head and looked doubtfully at his friend. “You really think I should take the chance? What if it lands on heads?”

“Then at least you can blame an inanimate object on the stupid decision you make. Flip it.”

Thomas nodded determinedly, poking his tongue between his lips as he flicked the coin.

Time stood still as the small bronze pellet pirouetted through the air. Thomas held his breath, and he could hear Mats’ sharp intake of breath too. His eyes followed the coin as it reached its peak, changed direction, and then landed with a satisfying ping onto the tile, where it spun, and spun, and spun, and then finally…

The two boys leaned in close, their heads touching as they eagerly awaited Thomas’ fate.

“It’s heads!” Mats yelled triumphantly.

“Be quiet,” Thomas shushed him. “If anyone finds out that I used heads or tails to make the biggest decision of my life - ”

“Newsflash: no one actually uses logic to make their big life decisions,” Mats pointed out. “Some of us are just better at attributing our successes to our own doing than others.”

But Thomas wasn’t listening anymore. His heart had begun to beat faster as he realized what exactly this meant for him. That he was going to have to send a Clandestine Cupid to Manuel Neuer. Because really, _who_ in their right mind would dare meddle with their coin toss determined fate?

“So you’re really gonna do it, dude?” Mats asked incredulously.

“I think so,” Thomas said softly. “I think so…” He was still looking at the tiny little incisions on the coin that made the shape of a head. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it.

Mats reached out and put his sticky hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Whatever happens, just know that we’re in this together.”

Thomas nodded, trying to swallow but finding it difficult to do so. “Thanks, Mats.”

\---

When they were in fourth grade, Benedikt and Manuel made a blood pact. It had been Benedikt’s idea. He showed up on the playground one day, pulling the other blond into the shade under the jungle gym and withdrawing a safety pin from his pocket.

“You’re my best friend, aren’t you, Manu?”

“Yes,” Manuel said, eyeing the sharp end of the needle and wondering what his friend could possibly be up to this time.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“Do you wanna make a promise?” Benedikt asked, his eyebrows raised in challenge.

“Yes,” said Manuel. He shivered slightly with excitement. Benedikt always took him on the greatest adventures.

“Okay,” Benedikt said, lowering his voice and making it so Manuel had to move even closer to him, close enough so that their heads were touching. “Give me your finger.”

“Which one?”

“This one,” Benedikt said, grabbing his friend’s ring finger and holding it carefully in his left hand. Then, he brandished the needle and dragged it lightly across the pad of Manuel’s finger, just enough for a tiny droplet of blood to appear and no more.

“Now do me,” Benedikt ordered, dropping the pin into Manuel’s palm.

His hand shook as he moved it towards Benedikt’s finger, but he was determined to do this right.

“You won’t hurt me,” Benedikt said nonchalantly, reading his best friend’s mind. “Just do it.”

But Manuel was nervous, and the prick he made in Benedikt’s finger drew a lot more blood than the prick in his own. Luckily, Benedikt didn’t seem to mind. He smiled brightly, holding up his finger and instructing Manuel to do the same. Then he reached out, pressing his finger to Manuel’s and making a blood pact that would supposedly last forever.

\---

The scar on his finger was still there to this day.

Manuel caught him looking at it during lunch, but didn’t comment in front of all their other friends. No one knew about the blood pact but them. Not that it mattered, anyway. It was just a stupid thing they did when they were stupid kids.

After lunch, though, when they were walking back to Benedikt’s locker before Calculus, Manuel couldn’t resist.

“Yeah, I always knew I fucking blew it,” he said.

All Benedikt could do was laugh. He couldn’t care less about a tiny little white scar on the pad of his finger, yet Manuel seemed unable to let go of his guilt. He didn’t want to talk about this right now or ever. Who cared, anyway?

“What’d you get on your last test?” Benedikt asked as he put in his combination and pulled open his locker.

“Eh. Ninety-three.”

“Shit, I got an eighty-nine.” Benedikt slid his English notebook into his locker and replaced it with his Calculus one, which he slid under his arm. “And Klinsmann _still_ won’t sign my enrollment form for advanced multivariable…”

They talked and joked the rest of the way to class just like they always did, naturally taking up as much space in the hallway as they could and exchanging rather theatrical bro hugs with their football friends who were coming in the opposite direction. And of course, they ignored all the looks they got from giggling freshman girls and brooding senior boys alike.

It’s what they did, and it’s what they would do until they graduated from high school.

\---

Manuel was a good friend. He and Benedikt always had each other’s backs, whether it be out on the football field or at a party at Schweinsteiger’s and one of them had gone a little bit past their limits: Benedikt did his best as a defender to try and keep Manuel from even having to touch the ball. Manuel would die before he allowed Benedikt to be seen as a drunken embarrassment. They kept each other’s secrets, too. No one knew about Benedikt’s Clandestine Cupid hoax except for Manuel, and Benedikt liked to consider himself a good ear whenever Manuel got shit from his father and needed a good vent complete with a myriad of swear words to get it off his chest.

Benedikt had to remind himself of this after school, while the football team was out practicing in a dusting of snow. But even considering their impressive friendship, things always got a little tense around Valentine’s Day, and it was all because of the Clandestine Cupid fiasco. He always tried to smile it off and feel happy for his best friend, but the green-eyed monster still found its way in somehow. He didn’t want it, but it still came and he hated it. To top it all off, there was an unfamiliar sense of panic that found its way into Benedikt this year. What if he didn’t get any _three years in a row_? How would that affect his pride? His dignity?

Coach Löw was motioning for Benedikt to come off the field and talk to him, probably because Benedikt had let more footballs slip past him in the last twenty minutes than he had during the whole previous season. He kicked the ground in frustration.

Manuel shot him a confused look. He, too, was wondering what was going on with his best friend.

“Just the damn snow,” Benedikt grumbled to himself as he trudged off the field because he refused to believe that all of this was because of a stupid bag of candy - or lack thereof.

“You need to do better, Höwedes,” Löw informed him with stern eyes. “I don’t want to cut you from the roster, but I need to be fair. This is a competitive team and you know it.”

“Coach,” was all Benedikt had to say for himself.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, coach.”

Löw looked suspicious.

“There’s no reason why I’m slacking off. I’m sorry, coach. I’ll do better,” Benedikt promised.

“Alright, Benni. Get back out there and don’t make me send you home for the day, alright?”

“Yessir,” Benedikt said. Coach Löw gave him a light push on the back and he jumped into a run, heading back to his position with a new determination to not screw up.

\---

Thomas was nervous. He was in line at the Clandestine Cupid table, repeating over and over again in his head what he and Mats had decided he would write on the note. The 5€ bill was crumpled up in his left hand while he spun his pen around in his right, nearly letting it slip because his palm was so sweaty.

“How many?” one of the sophomore officers asked him when it was his turn.

“Just one,” Thomas said, forcing his mouth to cooperate.

The officer handed him a piece of lavender cardstock, cut into the shape of a heart. He filled out Manuel’s name as best he could given the fact that his hand was trembling so much, then froze when it came time to write the personalized note, and, if he dare, sign his name after the ‘From’ at the base of the heart.

 _Come on, Thomas. Just do it,_ he urged himself. And with that, he just wrote. He didn’t think about the words because he had them memorized. Finally, when it was done, the tip of his pen hovered next to ‘From’.

‘ _Thomas M._ ’ he scribbled before he could think twice about it. Wasn’t that the whole point of this operation anyway? To step up his game with Manuel? He couldn’t do that if he remained anonymous.

He shoved the lavender heart into one of the buckets and sped off back to where Mats was waiting for him by the wall.

“I did it!” he said proudly. He slapped hands with Mats, who was grinning widely. “Now what?”

“Now we wait,” Mats said.

“Man, I’m _so_ relieved. I was more stressed out the past few days than I was freshman year when I waited until the morning of to start my five-page history paper.”

“That doesn’t count because your mother called you in sick.”

“Shut up,” said Thomas. “I face lots of adversity in my life.”

“To the staircase?” Mats suggested.

“To the staircase,” Thomas agreed.

He hitched up his backpack at the same time Mats slung his around his shoulder to his front, reaching into it and producing a Milka bar.

“Seriously, you can’t wait _thirty seconds_ until we sit down to start eating?”

“Time is money, dude,” said Mats before he bit into the chocolate.

Thomas rolled his eyes. Mats Hummels really was the greatest source of Thomas’ second-hand embarrassment, but he wouldn’t change him for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of the day: [bro hug](http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=bro+hug&defid=4277761).
> 
> P.S. I'm begging for you to comment! I've been getting a little discouraged lately cause I feel like I'm just writing for nothing. Don't get me wrong, I love writing, and this in particular has been a lot of fun, but it's a bit disheartening to post something and not hear much back. I put in a lot of heart and time to write and edit these things. So please consider leaving me a comment. It doesn't have to be on this chapter or the next one, but if you stick with me for this fic, maybe leave me a little something before it's over. It really does mean the world to me, and to any writer, to know that there are actual people reading their works. It would make me so, so excited to hear your opinion on this stupid little world that I've created. Do you hate it? Do you love it? Who do you think is gonna win and who's gonna lose? Your favorite character? Who do you want to slap across the face and who do you want to hug? I don't know, what do you think? It might not seem like much and it's easy to just not bother (I'm guilty of that sometimes when I read fics), but your words have the potential to make someone super happy or encouraged. So talk to me. I wanna be your friends! I'm also on tumblr @neueresque if you ever wanna hmu privately. Even if it's not about this fic, I'm down for a deep discussion about life. And I'm ALWAYS down for co-writing! Promise I don't bite :)
> 
> Thanks for listening and I promise I won't go on any more for the rest of this fic lol. Next update: tomorrow!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off: Thank you sooooooo much for all the comments on the last chapter. I hope I didn't sound too mopey in my note, but that's really what I live for as a writer. I've been feeling all meh lately because all the excitement was gone, but I think it's back now, partially because I'm back to writing what I really enjoy and not just what I think I should write, but mostly because of the wonderful feedback from you guys. I smiled every single time I opened my inbox and saw a comment. So thank you - my day was made, and I think the chapter I wrote today (not this one, but chapter 5) is the best yet because of how motivated and encouraged I felt. I really can't emphasize enough how much it means to me <3
> 
> Now on to chapter 3!

It was the day before Valentine’s Day, and with it came a last minute rush to buy Clandestine Cupids. The table and its surrounding area had basically turned into a warzone.

“Glad I got mine done bright and early,” Thomas said happily. “You sure you don’t wanna get one for Benedikt? It’s not too late.”

Mats brushed the crumbs off of his hands into his lap. “Yes, I’m _sure_. I already told you. Plus, didn’t we agree that although this was a bad move on your part, it would be even _worse_ to try and interfere with fate…”

He trailed off as he watched his friend’s eyes grow wide with fear, focusing on a point far past Mats.

“Be quiet. They’re coming.”

Thomas didn’t need to elaborate on who ‘they’ were in order for Mats to know. He tilted his neck slowly to look over his shoulder, following his friend’s gaze up the stairwell. Sure enough, there were Manuel Neuer and Benedikt Höwedes at the top of the landing.

“ _Don’t. Say. Anything,_ ” Mats hissed. “Just play it cool. Don’t try and make eye contact, act like you don’t notice them and just keep eating.”

Thomas wasn’t stupid enough to argue. He kept his eyes glued to the top of the stairwell, watching in plain sight as the darker blond held out his arm in front of his friend and the both of them hesitated. Thomas understood this gesture all too well; Loser Zones were dangerous and plentiful, and the popular kids had to keep a lookout for them to avoid getting contaminated.

But what were they doing wandering around during lunch, anyway? Didn’t they have a place to be and things to do at their designated football table?

For a moment, Thomas wondered if they were going to turn around and head back the way they came just to avoid him and Mats. But then the lighter blond, Manuel, said something, and Benedikt nodded. The next thing Thomas knew, they were coming down the staircase, closer and closer to him and Mats and with every step they took, Thomas grew more lightheaded. Were they going to beat him and Mats up? Is that the reason they’d decided not to turn around after all?

“Hey.”

Thomas wasn’t aware that _he_ was the one who had spoken until he received a hard nudge from Mats. He didn’t understand how he’d even managed it considering how dry his mouth was, but it only made sense. No one else would’ve dared utter a word as the two footballers strolled by.

They both glanced over in surprise at the sound of Thomas’ voice.

Thomas braced himself. This was it, this was the death of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, quickly thanking the world for everything it had given him in his short sixteen years of life.

“Sup?”

Thomas’ eyes flew open again. His near-death moment would have to be put on hold because that voice didn’t sound _anything_ like Mats, and Thomas refused to die with an unanswered question lingering.

It was Benedikt who had spoken. His hand was lifted in greeting, and next to him, Manuel was smiling faintly.

Thomas gulped, and Mats’ jaw dropped to the floor. Still, neither footballer faltered.

And then it was over. Benedikt and Manuel kept walking, turning their backs on Thomas and Mats and restarting their previous hushed conversation.

Thomas couldn’t have told you how long he and Mats sat there, unmoving and completely silent.

“Dude,” Mats stated after most of the initial shock was gone. “Dude, that just happened.”

“He...he _looked_ at me. He knows I exist!” Thomas said in a high-pitched voice.

“He said hi to me…” Mats marveled.

“No, he said hi to _me_!”

“Whatever. What difference does it make to them?”

“I thought… I thought I was gonna _die_!” Thomas shook his head in both disbelief and sheer ecstasy.

“Dude…” Mats said again.

Thomas turned to face his friend. Mats’ dark eyes were looking far off and distant, but he pulled him into a hug anyway, laughing joyously.

“Do you realize that it’s been almost three years?! If I had known it was that easy, we’d be _married_ by now!” Thomas exclaimed.

Mats pounded Thomas’ back victoriously. “You did it, Thomas. You really did…”

“No, _we_ did it!”

Mats pulled back, his brows furrowed slightly. Thomas was wrong; he hadn’t done anything to help. Thomas was the one who bought the Clandestine Cupid and didn’t ignore the footballers against Mats’ advice. And now he was reaping the rewards.

“Valentine’s Day is tomorrow… Man, this is the first time I’ve ever actually looked forward to it,” Thomas said excitedly. “I mean, if you don’t count elementary school when everyone HAD to give a Valentine to everyone else.”

“Right.”

“What do you think is gonna happen tomorrow when they deliver Manu’s Clandestine Cupid? Man, there’s just so many possibilites,” Thomas said cheerfully, his eyes glazing over as he began to imagine such scenarios.

Mats was no longer listening to his friend. He was distracted. Now that Thomas had scored, it was Mats’ turn. But what could he do for Benedikt? Benedikt and Manuel weren’t the same person, no matter how often they were lumped together. The fact remained that Benedikt was notorious for, well… being kind of an asshole sometimes. Everyone knew that out of all the footballers and popular kids that he was the leader, and the title of king of popularity comes hand in hand with the reputation for not being so nice. It was simply unavoidable.

Still, Mats had to do _something_. He couldn’t just sit back and watch his best friend fall in love while he remained forever alone.

“Where ya goin’?” Thomas asked through a mouthful of bread.

“I have to do something,” Mats explained, grabbing his backpack and hurrying off. He had to get to the Clandestine Cupid table before they shut it down at the end of lunch. He had no other option.

Thomas was perplexed, but shrugged and continued to eat his Nutella sandwich as he watched the other boy race away.

“Oh, god, no…” Mats moaned to himself as soon as he saw who was loitering at the Clandestine Cupid booth: Benedikt Höwedes himself, flanked as usual by Neuer. He appeared to be completely at ease as he filled out a pile of cardstock hearts, pausing to laugh brightly at something Neuer said, and then he dropped a 20€ note into the bucket.

A wave of envy made its way through Mats’ veins. Suddenly, he didn’t really feel like buying a gram for Benedikt anymore. He was too jealous of whomever those four Clandestine Cupids were addressed to. Four people were going to go home tomorrow with a personalized note and bag of sweets from Benedikt Höwedes, and Mats was not going to be one of them.

Like Thomas, Mats hadn’t ever received a Clandestine Cupid. He’d been pretty bummed freshman year, disappointed but unsurprised last year, and this year he was hopeless. It wasn’t _fair_. He’d even sent an anonymous gram last year to Julian Draxler as a way of redeeming himself (in his own eyes) for the whole Reus fiasco in middle school. But the rules of life say that kind acts don’t automatically necessitate a reward.

Mats marched away from the booth. He decided that he was done with Valentine’s Day for good. Everyone wants to get, but nobody gets anything if nobody gives anything.

\---

“Four, Benni. Really? _Four_?”

Benedikt fixed his friend with a pointed look. They were the first ones in the locker room for P.E. after having left lunch early, but Manuel still knew that it was a risky and sensitive topic to be discussing in such an indiscrete location. Benedikt did not appreciate his lack of caution.

“But no one gets four Cupids. Hear me, no one. It’s rare to even get _two,_ ” Manuel said as he slipped his gym shirt over his head. “And what if you actually get one from a real person this year? That’d make things even worse.”

“What are you saying?” Benedikt challenged him. His own gym uniform sat untouched in his locker.

“I’m saying that people might get suspicious. I’m just worried. There’s a lot at stake here.”

“Oh, come on! Most people wouldn’t even think of buying themselves grams. No one else has an image to live up to like I do! Yeah, I know I sound like I’ve got my head up my ass, but it’s true. Do you realize how much shit I would get if I did _anything_ wrong, at all?”

Manuel blinked. “Are you afraid?”

“No, I’m not afraid. What have I got to be afraid of?”

“Getting shit if you mess up.”

“I could handle it. I just don’t want to so I’m trying to avoid it. Is that unreasonable?”

“No, you don’t understand…”

“What do you mean, I don’t understand? I understand my own intentions perfectly well.” Benedikt folded his arms.

“Nothing.”

“What’s your problem, anyway? Why are you so concerned with how I’m spending my money all of a sudden?” Benedikt snapped.

“Because you’re my friend,” Manuel said plainly.

“You would be a better friend if you stopped nagging me about it. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” Benedikt huffed.

“Alright,” Manuel gave in. He was in his uniform but the lunch bell still hadn’t rung, so he sat down on the bench and waited for his friend to finish dressing. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to piss you off, I swear.”

“It’s fine, Manu. Let’s just let it go,” Benedikt spoke quietly.

Manuel stopped pulling on the drawstrings of his shorts long enough to glance up and nod.

Benedikt held his gym shirt up to his face and gave it a sniff. Yep, he definitely needed to take it home on Friday to wash it. It had been a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Valentine's Day celebrations commence with the next chapter! Will it be a complete disaster or will our boys pull through somehow?


	4. Chapter 4

Thomas shivered with excitement when he woke up on the morning of Valentine’s Day. He had a feeling that something good was going to happen to him, and he couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

Mats, however, didn’t seem to be as thrilled about the coming day as Thomas was. He kept on scowling, and he didn’t find it funny when Thomas asked if it was because the dog snatched his breakfast off the counter again and he had to make a whole new one.

“I didn’t even eat breakfast,” he replied rather grumpily.

“Oh, well that explains it.”

Mats scowled even more.

All of a sudden, Thomas stopped walking. “Wait. I have an idea.”

“What is it?” Mats said, perking up a little bit.

Thomas then got serious. He pulled Mats over to the edge of the hallway, away from the rush of students on their way to 1st period. Once he was sure no one was listening, he whispered, “Let’s ditch class. We can go out and get breakfast.”

Mats’ eyes darted back and forth nervously as he considered the idea. “But my dad…”

Thomas waved his hand. “Oh, he won’t find out. Come on, we’ve _never_ skipped class before. Doing it once won’t kill us. Plus, wouldn’t you want some pancakes and bacon?”

“Alright,” Mats sighed. “You had me at pancakes and bacon, not gonna lie. But you have to promise me we’ll be back in time for third period because my dad is really good friends with Mr. Tuchel.”

“Don’t worry, we will be,” Thomas said brightly. “I think you’re forgetting that I have somewhere to be during third period, too.”

As he remembered what his friend was referring to, Mats’ face fell. 3rd period was when they delivered the Clandestine Cupids, and on second thought, Mats really didn’t want to be there to witness everyone opening their bags of candy and waving their cardstock hearts around in front of him. But he knew that third period today meant a lot to Thomas, so he wasn’t going to ruin it for him.

He just wished he were a little more like Thomas sometimes.

\---

45 minutes and a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes later, Mats’ mood had improved significantly. He and Thomas were now sipping on milkshakes, and Thomas was far too excited about the idea of Neuer receiving his Clandestine Cupid to pull faces at Mats’ slurping noises.

“What are you gonna do about it, though? I mean, how are you gonna know what his reaction is?” Mats wanted to know.

“Easy. I talk to him about it.” Thomas flashed a grin before bowing down to reach his straw again.

“Well, you know, there’s a big difference between saying hi to someone and confessing that you’re their secret admirer,” Mats pointed out.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna confess that I’m his secret admirer. I’m just gonna strike up a casual conversation, win him over, and, I don’t know, maybe when the time comes I’ll just _let it slip._ ”

Mats had never heard a plan where more things could go wrong than this one, but he kept his mouth shut. “Whatever floats your boat, dude.”

“You gonna finish that, by the way?” Thomas asked, pointing to the last few bites of pancake on Mats’ plate.

Mats pushed the plate towards his friend. “It’s all yours.”

\---

No one dared bring it up, but the Clandestine Cupids were all that anyone could think about at school that day. Who would be getting one? Would it just be all the usual suspects with a few randies thrown in here and there, or would there be any major plot twists this year? Would anyone beat Benedikt Höwedes’ school-wide record of three grams?

Mats and Thomas arrived back at school just as 2nd period was ending. Thomas was bubbling with excitement, and Mats was just happy that he hadn’t received an angry voicemail from his father yet.

“Thomas, I hope you are aware that you aren’t actually gonna _see_ him when he opens it,” said Mats.

“I am aware,” said Thomas.

“I mean, unless you plan on lurking outside his class, or whatever.”

“That wasn’t my plan.”

“Good. You know, my dad always tells me that even though you’re a bit of a spaz, you’ve got a good head between your shoulders and now I’m starting to see what he means.”

“Wait,” Thomas said. “Can I do jazz hands?”

Mats grimaced. “Thomas. How many times do I have to remind you that ‘jazz hands’ is not something that we do in public?”

“And how many times do I have to remind you that we’re the least popular people at this school anyway so it doesn’t matter?” Thomas countered.

“I wonder why that is,” Mats said very sarcastically. He stopped at the water fountain and bent over to get a drink, cursing when he discovered that some dickhead had fiddled with the spout so it was both overpowered and facing the wrong direction, causing his sweatshirt to get all wet. “I hate this school.”

“Me too, but at least we have each other,” Thomas said happily.

“Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without you, to be honest,” Mats admitted.

“Probably eating lunch in your dad’s classroom. You know, with your dad.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

“You still have chocolate on your face, by the way.”

Mats wiped his mouth off on his sleeve, looking remarkably unflustered for just having walked around half the school with his face looking like a little kid’s who had just come out of the ice cream shop.

\---

Thomas was sitting in 3rd period physics, his hands pressed together in his lap and his head angled down in prayer. He squeezed his eyes shut and sent a little plea to whoever was up there that putting his name on the Clandestine Cupid was a good idea.

“Thomas?”

His head shot up and his eyes flew open at the same time. Mr. Guardiola was addressing him. “What?”

“Are you with us?”

“Er. Not really.”

One quick look around the classroom told Thomas that he wasn’t the only one. Mario Götze was twirling his pencil around his fingers, and when it flew halfway across the classroom and hit an unimpressed Holger Badstuber in the face, he didn’t notice and continued to move his fingers in the twirling motion. Holger himself had been staring off blankly into space until the impact of the pencil brought him back to earth. No one could concentrate. It was too hard to, knowing that a student government representative could be coming in at any moment with a Clandestine Cupid for any one of them. So Mr. Guardiola gave up and put on a movie.

There was no need to, however, because the period came and went, and not one Clandestine Cupid was delivered.

\---

Meanwhile, a completely different scene was taking place in Benedikt’s classroom. The teacher had ended the lesson early, the excited chatter over the delivery of the Clandestine Cupids having been too much to keep trying to instruct over.

Benedikt had gotten his four Clandestine Cupids. No more, no less. His heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach. He pushed them around his desk, as if to make sure that there wasn’t one hidden between them. But nothing magically appeared.

Next to him, Manuel was practically glowing. He’d gotten two grams this year, and he couldn’t put down one of them in particular. His face lit up into a grin as he read the note.

“What’s it say?” Benedikt asked, trying to muster up some enthusiasm in his voice.

Manuel held out the note for Benedikt, who snatched it and slapped it onto his desk.

_Look, you may not know who I am, but that’s not what this is about. I think you’re a great person, and I want you to know that there’s people like me who admire you for who you are, not just who you hang out with and what you wear. You’ve got a good head between your shoulders and you deserve every piece of candy in this bag. Happy St. Valentine’s Day!_

_From: Thomas M._

“Who’s Thomas?” was all Benedikt could think of to say.

“Thomas Müller?”

“Don’t know him,” Benedikt lied, as if not knowing who the kid was would take away from its value.

“He’s the one who eats lunch with Hummels’ son every day on the staircase.”

“Hummels, you mean the kid who never washes his hair?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve never talked to either of them, but that’s him.”

“Well, goody for you. Very sweet of him,” Benedikt said, and it was hard to keep the envy out of his voice now.

The bell rang to signal the end of the period, and everyone filed quickly out the door to get to lunch. He and Manuel were the first of their group in the cafeteria. Manuel dumped out both his bags of sweets onto the table to inspect their contents, and every time one of their other friends arrived with a Clandestine Cupid, they did the same as Manuel, spreading their Twizzlers and Reese’s and Nerds and Twix everywhere so that Benedikt had no means of escape.

His appetite was gone. He didn’t touch anything on the tray he’d purchased. His mouth was twisted up into an awkward frown as he listened to his friends gloat about this and that. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Listen to you guys, pissing yourselves over a fucking bag of sweets on Valentine’s Day,” he cut in. Then he stood up, slamming his chair back underneath the table behind him. “Don’t follow me.”

“Whoa. Calm down, bro. Eat some chocolate or something,” Bastian said, looking as though he wasn’t sure whether he should laugh or be worried.

“Seriously, don’t,” warned Benedikt.

Manuel looked concerned. He tried to get up and follow Benedikt, but one look from his furious friend told him that was a bad idea.

\---

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Mats announced to Thomas. They were sitting, as usual, on the stairwell, plotting the best way to get to the cafeteria and somehow get Manuel’s attention without all his other football friends noticing and without being too obvious. The both of them were too involved in the plotting to bother eating their lunches. Besides, they were both still full from their milkshakes.

“Are you kidding?! You can’t go to the bathroom now! We’re in the middle of a serious operation here!” Thomas retorted.

“ _Please_ ,” Mats whined. “A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”

“ _Really_ , though?”

“Yes, _really,_ ” Mats emphasized, grabbing his crotch like a grade schooler. “Why don’t you just come with me and we can take action from there?”

Thomas leapt up. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“But seriously, dude. We need to run. And I mean _now,_ ” Mats said.

Thomas put on his game face, locking eyes with Mats. It was obvious that they were both on the same page, that this was serious and that everything had to be executed perfectly. This was it. And then at the same time, they took off, their backpacks flopping around stupidly as they ran.

Operation Get to the Bathroom/Get Manuel’s Attention split up upon arrival at the nearest boys’ room. Thomas kept on hustling towards the cafeteria while Mats hauled his sorry ass into the bathroom.

Mats was astonished when he realized that he wasn’t the only one in here. This bathroom was relatively far from the cafeteria and therefore scarcely used during lunch, meaning that Thomas and Mats always had a little bit of well-deserved privacy. Today, however, he had company.

There was a figure hunched over one of the sinks. It didn’t take much scrutiny from Mats for him to realize that whoever it was wasn’t in here to have a picnic. The figure’s shoulders were shaking, and his breathing sounded uneven and strained. The thing that caught Mats off guard wasn’t what the figure was doing, though. It was _who_ it was that caused him to flatten himself as best he could against the wall and wish he had been born miraculously with chameleon capabilities.

It was Benedikt Höwedes.

Mats was trapped alone in the bathroom with Benedikt Höwedes, the boy whose shoes he had vomited on after running the mile freshman year and whom he had been crushing on ever since.

There was no escaping now. There was no turning back. He couldn’t leave, because Benedikt would surely notice and become embarrassed, or worse, angry.

All Mats could do was send a subliminal message to his best friend, apologizing for failing at their mission and thanking him for everything over the years because unfortunately, this was the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is definitely my favorite one so far and I can't wait to post it! (Might even post it early if I'm tempted enough...heh) What do you think is gonna happen? Give me your opinions before all is revealed! Really hope you guys will like (or at least be entertained by) what's coming tomorrow.
> 
> P.S. I know I said this would be 5 or 6 chapters, but it's looking more like 7 or 8 now.
> 
> P.P.S. I have no idea what country this takes place in...I call it football rather than soccer and their currency is obviously Euros, but there are also some references which I assume are very American. So, pick anywhere that works for you. I will take all the blame :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeeek hope you like it!
> 
> Raumdeuter25 used hearts as section dividers in her fic and I thought that was really cute so I decided to copy her just for this chapter because it's Valentine's Day (ily McKinley don't sue me).

As soon as Mats entered the bathroom and Thomas was left by himself, every ounce of his confidence faded. His chest was fluttering and he kept on rubbing his hands together nervously.

It didn’t help that they hadn’t actually made any extensive plans beyond Mats’ brilliant ‘ _we need to run. And I mean_ now.’

So put simply, Thomas was stuck with no bravery, no plan of action, and no best friend to back him up when he failed miserably.

He whistled in awe as he approached the cafeteria. He hadn’t set foot in the place since freshman year and had forgotten what it means when you mix several hundred teenagers together with food and freedom. It only made sense that someone of his social status would be a bit intimidated by the thought of going inside.

Still, he had to do it. He had come this far and wasn’t about to give up. He cracked his knuckles, drew in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then pulled the door open.

The wave of noise that hit his eardrums was enough to drown out his own thoughts. He kept pushing through, though. He was a man of adversity and would stop at nothing to get what he most wanted in life. Where he was going, he didn’t know, but going somewhere is better than going nowhere.

 _In most cases,_ Thomas’ conscience added helpfully.

 _Shut up and find Manuel,_ Thomas thought back. He kept his eyes peeled, but it felt like he was in one of those dreams where no matter how hard you try to see, nothing comes into focus.

At this point, Thomas wasn’t even prowling around anymore. He was stood frozen on the spot with the horrible sensation that everyone was looking at him. An instinct told him to run and get the hell away, but his legs seemed to be disconnected from his brain. All he could hope for at this point was that Mats would wonder what was taking him so long and come smack talk some sense into him.

Thomas looked around wildly. _Fuck adversity,_ he thought, and then he spun on his heel and took off. The last thing he was worried about right now was the fact that he probably looked like the biggest moron in the world, sprinting through the school cafeteria with his head ducked as if he were being chased by a bear.

“What the - ”

_SMASH._

The next thing Thomas knew, he was flat on his ass, covered in steamed corn kernels, marinated fruit, and an unidentifiable liquid that he took an educated guess at being chocolate milk. A burger patty lay a foot or two away from him.

“Who’s this kid?”

“Is that Thomas Müller?”

“Thomas Müller? But I thought that the cafeteria wasn’t exactly, you know, his niche?”

“Well, I can’t be sure. Last time I saw him, I think he was covered in fewer corn kernels.”

“Where’s his friend? You know, the one with the hair? Wouldn’t he be with his friend?”

“You mean Hummels’ son? I don’t know, good question. I heard he used to wander off at the zoo and stuff when he was a kid and they found him in the gorilla habitat once. So he could be pretty much anywhere, I guess.”

“Wait. How do you know that?”

“Mr. Hummels likes to go off on tangents.”

Above him, Bastian Schweinsteiger and Lukas Podolski were having a heated discussion about Thomas’ identity. After several minutes of this, he couldn’t stand it anymore and had to butt in:

“Yes, I am Thomas Müller. It was nice running into you guys, but I think I’ll just be on my merry way now.”

He flashed as convincing a grin as he could, tried to stand up, and slipped on what was likely the remainder of the chocolate milk which hadn’t been soaked up by his shirt yet. “Are you _ser_ ious?” he moaned.

Bastian and Lukas looked at each other, positively baffled.

While all of this was occurring, another figure was approaching the two from behind. And, because Thomas’ day couldn’t possibly get any worse, it turned out to be Manuel Neuer.

On the bright side, it was certainly one way to get his attention. But Thomas started to have doubts in his mind when Manuel completely ignored him and instead turned to the two potheads, and then the three of them began to speak in low, urgent tones to one another.

“Mm, mm, mm, trouble in paradise,” Thomas tutted, chuckling to himself. He put his hands under his head, crossed his legs and made himself comfortable because there was no denying it: He was in prime position to witness any drama that was about to unfold. Sometimes the best things come out of the worst situations.

“Just give him some space for a little bit. He told us not to follow him and I think we should respect that,” Manuel was saying.

“He doesn’t deserve our respect if he’s just gonna be insulting us for no reason,” Bastian argued back.

“And what the hell was that all about anyway?” Lukas added. “He got more Cupids than any of us did.”

Discomfort flashed across Manuel’s expression but quickly disappeared. “Yeah, I know he’s being a dick but cut him some slack. He can’t be perfect all the time and he’s been under a lot of pressure lately.”

“We weren’t even gonna try and talk to him or anything. We just wanted to find him and bring him his lunch because I’m pretty sure he wants to eat today.”

Listening to all of this, Thomas kinda wanted to know who this mysterious person was that they were talking about and what had happened to cause him to storm off and demand that his friends didn’t follow. Given the circumstance, however, Thomas already had a pretty good idea who it was. If Benedikt and Manuel weren’t glued at the hip, then in all likelihood it was Benedikt who had blown the door open.

Meanwhile, it seemed that Manuel had finally noticed that a scrawny boy covered in today’s school lunch was on the floor, peering up at him curiously. He took one probing look at Thomas and put two and two together to figure out where Benedikt’s lunch had gone. He seemed to consider his options for a moment before turning back to Bastian and Lukas and relaying his plan.

“Okay. You guys can go and find Benni, bring him something from the salad bar and see if he’s cooled down but don’t push it. I’ll take care of this one.” Manuel motioned towards Thomas at the mention of him. The two other boys nodded simultaneously.

“C’mon,” Bastian muttered, and he and Lukas then disappeared in the direction of the salad bar, leaving Manuel and Thomas on their own.

Thomas’ stomach was churning. He already felt dizzy and he wasn’t even on his feet yet, leading him to believe that he might be better off just staying here on the cafeteria floor for the rest of his life.

“Alright, up you go,” Manuel said. He held out a hand.

Thomas just stared at it as if he’d never seen a hand before in his life. Manuel wiggled his fingers around a bit and offered Thomas a small smile as if to reassure him that it was okay and that he wasn’t going to bite.

Gulping, Thomas took Manuel’s hand and allowed him to help him up. The hand was firm and strong and Thomas felt himself being lifted with ease. He stumbled a bit but managed to make it onto two feet again, after which Manuel let go and surveyed him from head to toe, his forehead creasing slightly.

“You alright?”

 _I’ve been better,_ Thomas wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. This was definitely not how he had planned on presenting himself to the great Manuel Neuer.

Manuel was much taller than he’d expected. He knew Manuel was tall, but he’d never been close enough to him to gauge how tall he really was; he needed to tilt his head up ever so slightly in order to meet his eyes, which were also much bluer than Thomas had expected.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Thomas nodded numbly and Manuel smiled again, for real this time. The corners of his eyes had lit up and gave him away.

“It’s okay. Let’s get you cleaned up a bit,” Manuel said, and with that, he placed his hand on Thomas’ back, gently pushing him in the direction of the door back to the hallway.

He couldn’t believe what was happening to him. He was neither panicked nor overjoyous, uncomfortable nor sure of himself. He simply existed in the moment, taking in every detail of it.

Manuel steered him out into the hallway, away from the cafeteria, up the staircase that Mats and Thomas pretty much called their second home, and down another hallway toward the boys’ room. He wasn’t sure at first why Manuel didn’t just take him into the bathroom closer to the cafeteria, then realized it was probably because Manuel was a little more intelligent than his friends Tweedledee and Tweedledum and figured Thomas would want as few people as possible to see him a state like this.

“I got your Cupid, by the way. That was one of the most thoughtful things anyone’s ever said to me, so thank you.”

He sounded calm, his voice mild yet commanding. For a split second, Thomas’ heart froze in his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Thomas almost whispered.

“You seem like a really nice guy. We can hang sometime, if you want?”

“I’d love to,” Thomas replied, some of the pep in his heart making way back to his voice.

“Cool. Let’s chat about it more once you’re not covered in Benni’s lunch anymore, yeah?”

Thomas giggled just before Manuel pushed open the door to the boys’ room.

♡ ♡ ♡

Mats was holding his breath, but he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to make it on the limited amount of oxygen he’d taken in. He’d never been much of an athlete.

Benedikt gasped over by the sink, causing Mats to press his body even harder against the tiles on the wall. And then, he realized something that made him forget that he needed to breathe completely. Benedikt was crying.

Mats bit down on his tongue to stop himself from making any sort of noise out of shock. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. None. Not one vague recollection came to him about what one was to do in a circumstance like this.

The footballer turned on the sink and began to splash his face with the running water. About 10 seconds later, he shut it off again and looked up, examining his dripping wet face in the mirror. And that’s when Mats knew what was coming next.

He realized too late that he had situated himself right next to the paper towel dispenser, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it now.

Benedikt turned around, saw Mats, and looked nearly as panicked as Mats had felt when he’d set foot in here.

“Get out,” he ordered. His mouth was pressed into a tight line, and his eyes were hard and dangerous. At the same time, Mats detected a vulnerability in him that he’d never seen before and was enough to drive anyone out of character. Which is why, instead of just keeping his mouth shut and leaving, he decided to try and defend himself. He was, after all, just as welcome in here as everybody else was.

“But… but I have to go to the bathroom!”

“Then go to the bathroom and get the fuck out when you’re done!”

“Fine,” Mats said, undoing his zipper as he placed himself in front of a urinal.

Benedikt grabbed a handful of paper towels, burying his face into them and curling over the sink once more.

When Mats was finished, he chose the sink farthest away from Benedikt and washed his hands. He could tell that the other boy was trying to hold back his sobs, but it was a fruitless attempt.

Mats took a paper towel and dried his hands. He crumpled it up in his palm but didn’t throw it anyway. If he threw it away, that would mean he had no more business in here and would have no excuse not to leave. He stared into the trash can, trying to think of which he trusted more: his brain or his heart. His brain was telling him to just leave and go find Thomas. His heart was telling him that Benedikt needed some support and that he should stay. He had to choose between his best friend and a virtual stranger who probably hated his guts. The choice seemed obvious, but Mats was having an awful time going with it.

Another reason he should leave: Why in the hell would Benedikt want Mats Hummels, the biggest loser in the school of all people, to be with him during one of his poorer moments? He’d clearly expressed that he wanted Mats to get lost, and it only made sense for him to wish such a thing.

 _Well, I could go and find another one of his friends and send them up here, at least,_ Mats thought glumly.

But despite everything else, and despite his self-awareness, he threw away the paper towel and ambled back to the sinks. This is what he would do for his best friend Thomas, and there was no reason he shouldn’t do it for anyone else, his crush included. Benedikt had never done anything too terrible to him, after all.

He stood next to Benedikt, who was now rubbing his eyes dry.

“Are you alright?”

“Obviously not,” Benedikt sniffled, dropping a paper towel into the sink.

“What happened?”

“As if I’d tell you.”

“Oh, come on. Who am I gonna tell? My dad?”

Benedikt didn’t respond. He straightened up, bringing himself level to Mats. His face was flushed, his eyes dull and bloodshot, and he looked absolutely miserable. Mats’ heart pounded in his throat and he wondered if Benedikt could see it. Just looking at Benedikt made him feel sad.

“I mean, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I understand. But I’m here and I’m a person and I’d be happy to try and help even if… you know, I don’t get what it’s like to be you. And trust me, I’ve had more embarrassing things happen to me than this. I don’t even know what kinds of horror stories my dad tells about me in his class. And I don’t know if you remember, but I threw up after we ran the mile freshman year, and honestly, who _does_ that?”

 _Oh my god, shut up, Mats_.

“Well, it happens to the best of us. It’s just what happens when an athlete pushes himself too hard,” Benedikt said.

“So you remember?”

“Yep. I really liked those shoes too, but it’s okay. There’s more important things in life.”

“Like what?” Mats was sincerely interested in finding out what Benedikt considered to be more important than his designer gym shoes.

Benedikt shrugged, looking down into the sink again. “I don’t know. Family. Friends. Stuff like that.”

Mats stayed quiet, letting Benedikt have a moment to himself. He still didn’t know what was wrong, what he or Benedikt had said that had triggered a few more tears.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He reached out and touched Benedikt’s forearm, and when Benedikt didn’t flinch or become angry, he kept his hand there.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Benedikt kept his eyes glued to his own sad reflection in the mirror as he answered, his voice still quivering in the slightest. “Okay. What happened is that I didn’t actually get any Clandestine Cupids again this year, I’ve just always sent them to myself, and I’m so tired of this. I feel like no one actually likes me, but at the same time if I do anything wrong everyone will use it as an excuse to hate me.”

Mats’ mouth dropped open. He certainly hadn’t been expecting a confession like that.

“Well… I can’t speak for everyone else but I can speak for myself. I don’t dislike you. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t appreciate it so I never bothered sending you one, even though I really wanted to.”

Benedikt’s eyes went round. “ _You_ wanted to send me a Cupid?!”

“Well… yeah.” Mats shuffled back and forth awkwardly. “You see, I kind of, erm. You know. Have a crush on you - ”

He never got to see Benedikt’s reaction, though, because at that instant, the door flew open and the both of them wheeled around to find out who had intruded on such an intimate moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know, I really wanted to have an intense Hömmels cuddles session too but remember that they've never really talked up to this point so I had to keep things realistic. Don't worry though, we have plenty more chapters for that to happen later ;););)
> 
> PLEASE COMMENT <3<3 :*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you like this chapter! Although I have to say that the next one (7) is my personal favorite muahaha.
> 
> I'm pretty sure I'll be able to wrap this fic up in chapter 8. This means I have to decide what to write next, so I thought I'd put out this [poll](http://goo.gl/iaMaj8) and you can vote for which one you want. If you have any ideas, feel free to share them with me too! As long as it involves Hömmels as teenagers then it's fair game :)

It was hard to tell which duo of boys was more surprised to see the other: the footballer and the teacher’s son, or the footballer and the teacher’s son’s best friend.

“Um,” Manuel was the first to speak. “Are we interrupting something?”

“Yeah, you kind of are, not gonna lie,” said Mats.

“Double date?” Thomas suggested with an innocent grin.

Mats would’ve elbowed his friend had he not been all the over by the door. “Why do you look like you were dumpster diving?”

“It’s a long story,” Manuel jumped in.

“Feel free to explain any time now,” Mats said politely. Truthfully, he cared more about finding out why his best friend was strutting around the school with Manuel Neuer than why Thomas was drenched in cafeteria food. Though he had to admit that he was in no position to be accusative given that he himself was hanging out in the bathroom with Benedikt Höwedes.

“Well, this is pleasant. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone,” Thomas said after a pregnant pause. He then began to reach for the hem of his shirt and pulled it ungracefully over his head, blindly making his way to the sink in the process.

“Here, I’ll wash your shirt, you just focus on, er, getting the corn out of your hair,” said Manuel, arriving quickly after him. He took the shirt from Thomas, who thanked him immensely, and began to run it under cold water. Once it was relatively milk-free, he brought it over to the hand dryer.

Apparently, there was something particularly hilarious about watching a shirtless, skinny white boy with corn in his hair attempting to make himself look presentable again, because Benedikt burst into a fit of laughter after having not made a peep for several minutes.

Thomas turned to him, shrugging and smiling wryly. “What can I say?”

“I don’t know him,” Mats said quickly to Benedikt.

“Hey, at least he’s not _eating_ the corn. You gotta give it up to him for that,” Manuel shouted over the noise of the hand dryer.

“True,” Mats nodded, unsure whether Neuer expected him to give Thomas an actual round of applause or not. “Yeah, Thomas!” he said enthusiastically just in case.

Manuel started whooping too, and even Benedikt joined in, although he was still laughing too hard to be taken seriously.

Thomas took a moment to stop plucking corn out of his hair and gave a thumbs-up to acknowledge his cheering section.

The bell signaling the end of lunch rang at that point. Manuel flung Thomas’ semi-dry shirt back to him as if he’d been caught doing something wrong, and Thomas scrambled back into it. Benedikt gathered all the paper towels he’d used up in a rush and threw them away. Mats just watched everything as it happened, disappointed that although all four of them had been briefly united under the common front that was Thomas Müller, it was all coming to an end.

“Well, we’ll see you guys around,” Manuel said before he pushed open the door, Benedikt in his wake.

“Bye,” said Mats.

“See ya. And thanks for the hand, Manuel!” Thomas responded.

Manuel waved his hand as if to say _hey, anytime,_ then disappeared with the other blond into the hallway.

\---

“Dude, we _have_ to talk,” Mats said as soon as he saw Thomas outside after school. The latter was bundled up in his puffer coat, his face only half visible because he had zipped his hood up all the way.

“Yes, but can I do jazz hands first?” Thomas replied, his teeth chattering.

“What? _No._ You can’t,” said Mats. He found it mildly difficult to believe that Thomas would even suggest such a thing to ruin all the progress they had made today. But then again, it was Thomas, and there was a reason that he and Mats were so low on the social ladder. “Tell you what. When we get home you can do jazz hands - IF you don’t do anything to humiliate me on the way home. Sound good?”

“Speak for yourself,” Thomas muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Sounds good.”

They began the mile-and-a-half trek, shivering and bowing against the wind. Mats had only brought a sweatshirt with him, having gotten a ride this morning from his dad. The plus side of this was that he didn’t have to defrost in the morning once he got to school. The drawback was that he had to wake up an hour earlier and sit in his dad’s classroom. The other drawback was that he had to freeze his ass off on the way home. Sometimes Mats wondered if the whole getting a ride to school in the morning thing was even worth it.

“Do you want my hat?”

“That would be appreciated,” said Mats. He took his hand out of his pocket and held it out while Thomas removed multiple layers of hoods to eventually get to his hat.

“Thanks a lot, dude,” Mats said gratefully as he pulled the pompoms snugly over his frostbitten ears. Thomas smoothed out his hat hair rather quickly before tugging all his hoods back on.

“No problem.”

While they walked, they updated each other on everything that had happened since they split up during lunch. Mats left out some of the finer details so as to respect Benedikt’s privacy. The footballer hadn’t explicitly instructed Mats to keep everything between the two of them, but Mats figured if it was him, he wouldn’t want some random kid to go around blabbering all his business.

“Wait… So he’s just been sending them to _himself_ all these years?”

“Yep. It made me feel a bit sorry for him, but then again… look at him,” Mats reasoned. “Someone needs to take a safety pin and pop that overinflated ego of his.”

“Really, Mats? You just found out how upset he actually is and you’re gonna say _that_? He’s obviously not happy. You know, just because he’s all that and his parents can afford to buy him anything he wants, that doesn’t automatically make him a bad person,” Thomas said.

“Hm…”

“You know what I think?” Thomas sounded more serious than Mats had ever heard him before.

“What’s that?”

“I think that he’s a good person at heart, just like Manu is. It’s just people like _us_ who made him believe that he’s not, and now he has to play out the part.”

Mats thought about this while he scratched his nose. Maybe Thomas was right and he _had_ been a little hard on Benedikt all these years. Come to think of it, he’d never even given the boy a chance. He’d just assumed that Benedikt hated him.

He’d been doing the same thing all along that he always criticized Benedikt for doing.

It was a vicious cycle, and if something was going to change, Mats knew that he had to be the one to change it. He was in a position of flexibility - he could only go up, whereas one wrong move could send Benedikt tumbling down.

“Buy him a Valentine, Mats. Get your ass in that Kroger right now and buy him a Valentine,” Thomas demanded, and he began body driving Mats across the sidewalk. “And you have no excuse because everything’s gonna be on sale at this point.”

“Okay, okay, okay…” Mats agreed, attempting at the same time to get Thomas to stop trying to wrestle him.

He went into the grocery store and was pleased that he’d followed Thomas’ directions - if not for any other reason, because he could no longer see his own breath in the air. Thomas was right on his heel and breathing down his neck.

“Look! There they are,” Thomas informed him, jabbing his finger in the direction of what was left of a picked-out Valentine’s display.

“Yes, I have eyes too,” Mats said, although he really did appreciate Thomas’ enthusiasm about his life.

They made their way to the display, where Mats picked out a box of filled chocolates with a shiny ribbon tied around it.

“Do you think this is okay?”

“Well, it’s a box of chocolate from Kroger. But that’s not the point. You just want him to know that you were thinking of him, right?”

Mats nodded, glad to have his friend’s approval. He tucked the box safely between his hands as they headed to the register to pay. He had the Valentine now, but that was the easy part. The hard part would be actually getting it to his crush and, unlike Thomas, he didn’t have the school government at his disposal to deliver it for him. He had to do this himself. He had to be the brave one for once.

\---

Manuel was at Benedikt’s house after football practice. (Valentine’s Day was a fake holiday and therefore not a valid excuse for giving them the day off, said Coach Löw.) He slipped a frozen pizza into the oven while his friend sat at the kitchen table with an intimidating pile of homework before him.

Benedikt was too exhausted from his little slip up today to even pick through his assignments for what was important and what could be done during study hall tomorrow.

“How’s it going?” Manuel asked.

“Fuck this,” said Benedikt. “I’m not doing any of it. Seriously, _fuck_ homework.”

Manuel didn’t look at Benedikt; he was setting the timer on the stove for the pizza, but he could still hear the other boy drop his head down onto the table in frustration. He went over to Benedikt and pulled him back up, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and thumping his chest a few times.

“Come on, you gotta do it,” Manuel said, though there was no conviction in his voice; both he and Benedikt knew that that wasn’t gonna happen tonight.

Manuel pulled out a chair and sat down next to Benedikt, who was now scowling down at his Calculus textbook with his hair flopping down across his eyes. He brushed it aside angrily, as if having his hair obstructing his vision was the last thing on earth he wanted to deal with right now.

“Listen, Benni. I think I owe you an apology.”

Benedikt looked up, and Manuel swallowed before continuing.

“I really didn’t know you cared that much about the whole Clandestine Cupid thing, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s really not that big of a deal and I shouldn’t be such a dramatic bitch about it. I’m sorry, too,” Benedikt said earnestly.

“But I still shouldn’t have rubbed it in your face that much. I don’t blame you for acting the way you did.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m a shitty friend and I’m sorry. Maybe it’s about time for me to realize that the reason I don’t get any and you do is because I’m a stuck up asshole and you’re not.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Manuel said patiently. “I just don’t want you to be upset.”

It was a wonder, Benedikt thought, that he even had one true friend in Manuel. He expected everyone to treat him like a king but never really even considered giving anything in return. Manuel was the only person he’d ever given back to. Maybe the reason he had less true friends than he would’ve liked was because he never actually gave anyone a chance. He wasn’t exactly _mean_ to anyone, but he wasn’t particularly nice either. He probably gave off the whole unfriendly popular kid vibe - the kind of person whom nobody really liked but everyone was too scared to admit.

He thought about Mats Hummels, who could’ve easily ignored him today and then gone on to exploit Benedikt’s moment of weakness around the whole school. But it was already dark out and he’d seen not one Tweet nor heard any mention of his little episode in the bathroom today, so it was safe to say that Mats hadn’t said anything. Not only that, but Mats had gone out of his way to try and make him feel better despite Benedikt clearly letting him know that he wasn’t welcome. All that, and Benedikt hadn’t even bothered to thank him.

Thinking about what had happened today made Benedikt ashamed. He wanted to remember it at the same time that he wanted to forget it ever happened because it was so embarrassing. He wasn’t supposed to cry. No one besides his mother had ever seen him cry past the age of 10, not even Manuel. He could’ve at least waited until he got to the privacy of his own bedroom, but it seemed like he couldn’t even have managed that. He’d lost all control of himself.

If Benedikt were honest, he only knew who Mats Hummels and his friend Thomas were because he had Mr. Hummels for computer science. Still, it proved very difficult not to like someone who had managed to get lost in the gorilla habitat at the zoo at least a _little_ bit. He wasn’t bad looking, either. He might’ve even been attractive - he was tall and lean and had the kind of thick, wavy hair that Benedikt would’ve killed to have himself. And this was the kind of person that Benedikt was too busy calling a low life to look at twice.

Manuel’s voice eventually brought him back to the present. “You okay, Benni? You look a bit lost.”

“Yep, just thinking. Are you doing anything on Saturday?”

Benedikt’s heart was pounding at the thought of the idea alone. It must’ve been the craziest thing he’d ever thought of, but if he was going to change what people thought of him, where better to begin than with the person who’d made him realize that he needed to change in the first place?

“Nope. What’re you thinking?” Manuel replied, glad to see that his friend was finally perking up a bit.

“Let’s invite Mats and that Müller kid to go to the mall or something,” Benedikt said.

“What? I mean, why not? That sounds good to me.”

Manuel was surprised at his friend’s sudden one-eighty but had no room to complain about it. After all, he _had_ spent a better portion of his day after the cafeteria incident thinking about said Müller kid. And of course, it’s kind of impossible to not bond with the people you end up in the bathroom with during crisis mode.

The timer went off then and Manuel got up, grabbing a fork and serving plate on his way. He opened up the oven and used the fork to scoot the pizza out onto the plate. He cursed when he accidentally touched the hot metal rack but otherwise got the pizza out successfully.

For some odd reason, he imagined Thomas Müller trying to do the same thing and instead ending up with pizza sauce in his hair.

“Why are you smirking?” Benedikt asked with an amused look.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Manuel said and felt himself blush. Or it could’ve just as well been the heat from the oven.

Benedikt was suspicious but let the matter drop. He’d find out sooner or later, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, I'm a bit dazed right now...
> 
> Don't forget to vote in the poll!
> 
> Thanks for reading and ily all <3 :*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't vote in my [poll](http://goo.gl/iaMaj8) from the last chapter, it's not too late! Part 2 of Long Way Home is in 1st place with Part 3 of Lab Safety in a relatively close 2nd. With this in mind, I'll need some help if Long Way Home ends up winning. Its sequel will take place in Germany, so if any of you are German (or just happen to know a lot about living in Germany), then I would LOVE to talk to you about cultural ideas for the fic. I was in Germany for a short time (2 weeks) and I have a few reference points, but not enough to write a totally accurate fic. So if you're willing to answer my stupid questions about Germany and maybe throw around a few ideas of where Benni could take Mats, then give me a shout :)
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all your kudos and comments on this ridiculous little story - I haven't felt this motivated to write in a long time. I'll never be able to stress how much this feedback means to me. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

“But _when_ are you gonna do it? You haven’t answered me yet!”

“I told you, I’m gonna do it after school!”

“Yeah, right,” Thomas said, crossing his eyes as if he’d never heard anything more stupid in his life.

It was lunch the day after Valentine’s Day, and the two friends were arguing about when Mats was going to deliver the chocolate to Benedikt. It wasn’t a very effective argument though, seeing as the both of them kept repeating the same thing over and over again.

“Watch me, I’m gonna do it after school.”

“Yeah, but _when_?”

“After school! I’ll just go and find him in the sports hallway.”

“Well, the football team doesn’t practice on Fridays, so you’re screwed. You’ll have to catch him before he goes home.”

“They practice on Fridays during off-season, dummy.”

“I still don’t believe you. You’re just making excuses to not do it right now because you’re a chicken.”

This had been going on for the past 10 minutes, and Mats was getting more and more discouraged by the minute upon realizing that Thomas was probably right. He was a wimp. He likely wouldn’t end up doing it.

He looked down sadly at the box of chocolates, which was sitting on the floor between the two of them.

“Okay,” Thomas finally said, his tone softening. “You’re not a chicken, I’m sorry I said that. I just really want you to do this because I know you’ll be happy once you do.”

Mats rubbed his forehead, shaking his head back and forth slowly. “I can’t do it, dude.”

“Yes, you can!” Thomas shot back. “If you’re not gonna do it for yourself, at least do it for him.”

“But how?”

“Just… I don’t know. You can’t really wait for when the time is right cause you’ll never catch him alone. Just go for it,” Thomas advised.

Mats nodded, picking up the box of chocolates and putting it in his lap.

“Do it right now. Go and get him from the cafeteria, just ask if you can talk to him for a second and then take him outside and give it to him. Do it right now, while you’ve got the adrenaline going because you’ll hate yourself later if you don’t.”

It was a wonder how someone who could barely stay on his own two feet gave such good advice sometimes.

Mats stood up and Thomas followed suit, clapping Mats’ shoulder affectionately. “Atta boy. Now go get ‘em. And if all goes wrong, just come running back here as fast as you can and we’ll go to Plan B.”

“Which is?” Mats asked with a raised eyebrow.

“To be determined,” Thomas said mysteriously.

Mats smiled a bit. If worst came to worst, he’d still have Thomas. It was that thought alone that got him down the staircase and outside the doors of the cafeteria, but even his best friend’s promise couldn’t get him past that point.

\---

After the events of the past two days, Benedikt was growing accustomed to not being in the cafeteria during lunch. He had no problem lingering for a few minutes after English to ask his teacher some questions about his essay. By the time he left, 10 minutes of lunch had passed. Surely, Mats Hummels and Thomas Müller had to have claimed their spot on the staircase by now.

But when he got there, his heart sunk because the one person he’d really been looking for was nowhere to be seen.

The boy Thomas Müller glanced up upon hearing footsteps approaching, his face stricken when he recognized Benedikt.

“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed. “I just told him to go to the cafeteria!”

“Um,” said Benedikt. “What?”

Thomas smacked himself in the forehead. “Dammit. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Said what?” Benedikt looked around the stairwell as if he expected Mats to pop out of the corner at any moment.

“Oh my god! I can’t stop talking!” Thomas howled. He was absolutely hysteric, wringing his hands around one another uncontrollably.

Benedikt frowned. He kneeled down, grabbing one of Thomas’ wrists impatiently to get his attention. “Hey, it’s okay. I just came around because I was looking for Mats? Doesn’t look like he’s here though.”

Thomas closed his eyes, breathed deeply through his nose, and then opened his eyes again, appearing much more composed now. “No, he’s not, because I sent him off looking for you.”

“Looking for me?” Benedikt repeated, appalled.

“Yep, but if I had known that you were gonna be up here I wouldn’t have made him… Oh god, poor Mats. He’s probably roaming around like an idiot down there,” Thomas explained.

Benedikt dropped Thomas’ wrist, folding his hands across his own lap and settling down. “I’m sure he’ll find his way back, I wouldn’t worry too much. Mind if I stick around for a bit?”

Thomas gestured around the stairwell. “I mean, sure. We’ve got plenty of room for company up here. It’s a shame that hardly anyone ever joins us.”

“Cool. Hey, listen. You know Manuel Neuer, right?”

Thomas went on high alert. “Yup.”

“Cool. Well, we were wondering if you and your friend wanted to hang out with us tomorrow, go to the mall and see a movie or something?”

“You mean _Mats_?” Thomas responded as if he had millions of other friends whom the footballer could be referring to.

“Mats, yeah. If you don’t wanna that’s fine, but I just thought it might be nice. You guys seem like a lot of fun and, you know… Can’t hurt to hang out with some new people every once in a while, right?”

Thomas bit his lip in deep thought. If he were to be rational, this whole thing seemed suspicious. After all, what would the two most popular boys in the school want to do with the two losers? But oddly enough, Thomas had a gut feeling that the offer was no practical joke. There was nothing evil behind Benedikt’s expression, no smirk and no glint. If anything, Thomas could detect only a bit of apprehensiveness in the other boy.

For the first time in his life, Thomas had the power.

He could say yes or no. He had the power to influence the whole social atmosphere at his school.

Benedikt gripped the straps of his backpack tighter, his knee jiggling up and down as he awaited an answer.

And just because he could, Thomas delayed his response to hold onto this moment for just a bit longer. Finally, he looked up at the ceiling in a way that suggested he was trying to get a mental picture of his busy Saturday schedule and find a time to squeeze the proposed outing in.

“Well,” he said, drawing out his words as much as possible. “I do have tomorrow free so I don’t see why not. I’d have to double check with Mats, though.”

Benedikt let out a small breath of relief. “Cool. Here, I’ll give you my number, just let me know when you find out and then we’ll figure something out.”

He tore a sheet of paper out of one of the notebooks in his backpack, scribbled his number onto it, then flung it at Thomas just as he was jumping to his feet again. Before Thomas could even think of how to respond and what the meaning of this was, Benedikt was practically running away.

“Nice chatting, see you tomorrow!”

Thomas just sat there, dumbfounded. He picked up the ripped sheet of paper at the very edge, holding it at the tips of his fingers as if it were about to burst into flames.

\---

Mats ended up walking the entire perimeter outside the cafeteria, looking into the windows whenever he could to see if he could find Benedikt’s table. That was the first step. He could worry about what came after once he actually located Benedikt.

The footballers’ table was easy enough to spot, but it didn’t look like Benedikt was sitting there. There was Neuer and Schweinsteiger and Podolski and Reus and Schürrle and all the rest of them, but their ring leader was nowhere to be seen.

All of a sudden, Podolski turned his head and caught Mats staring at them.

Mats fumbled with the box of chocolates, eventually dropping it. He started to gesture wildly, claiming his innocence and mouthing Benedikt’s name as an explanation.

“What’s he doing? Does he think he’s stuck in the gorilla habitat again?” Bastian, who had also caught on to their observer, speculated.

“Judging by how some of the people at this school act, I wouldn’t blame him if he did,” Lukas said casually.

“Well… what d’ya reckon we do? I think he needs help.”

Normally, the two would’ve turned to Benedikt for advice in any kind of situation dealing with someone outside their group, but having stayed after in English to review his essay, he was unavailable. Manuel was always their second option, so Lukas punched his shoulder to get his attention.

“Bro, look,” Lukas said, pointing to Mats. But as soon as the goalkeeper had averted his attention, Mats’ gestures changed dramatically. He started to wave his hands back and forth, shaking his head vigorously.

“Fucking shit,” Manuel breathed. If Mats Hummels was running around the school looking like he’d just seen Bigfoot, then something had to have gone horribly wrong with Benedikt inviting them to the mall. But _how_ could Benedikt have fucked it up this badly?

He slammed his palms onto the table and stood up. “That’s it. This is ridiculous.”

And Mats took off.

“I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m SO dead,” he repeated to himself over and over again as he ran.

He ran as fast as he could and was winded before he’d even rounded the corner, but he couldn’t stop until he was far, far away from the cafeteria, from this school, probably even from the whole country. No one pissed off Manuel Neuer.

Unfortunately, he didn’t make it quite as far as he would’ve preferred. He collapsed against the wall just outside the gymnasium, heaving desperately for air and wishing that Manuel would just come and finish him now so he wouldn’t have to be in so much pain anymore. He hadn’t felt this bad since he’d run the mile freshman year, and we all know the fairy tale ending to THAT story.

“Oh god,” he panted. “I’m gonna puke, I’m gonna puke, I’m gonna puke, I’m gonna puke, I’m gonna puke…”

He could feel heavy footsteps getting closer to him, but he was too exhausted to open his eyes and confirm who it was.

“Call an ambulance,” he begged.

“That was quite the sprint you just did,” said a voice.

“Thank you,” Mats coughed.

“Water?”

“Please.”

Mats opened his eyes just in time to catch a water bottle that was flying towards his face. He opened it and dumped half of it down his throat without even swallowing. While he was hydrating, Neuer lowered himself down the wall and sat next to him.

“You dropped something, by the way,” Manuel added. He waited until Mats had finished drinking to show him the box of chocolates.

Mats took it, immediately thankful that minimal damage had occurred during its tragic fall. Going into Kroger and buying one of them had already been traumatic enough. He didn’t really fancy having to do that all over again for a second.

“So do you wanna tell me what happened with Benni?”

Mats stared at him obliviously, apparently having forgotten that he was supposed to be in severe respiratory distress. “What do you mean?”

Manuel hesitated. “Wait… What _did_ just happen, actually?”

Mats opened his mouth stupidly then closed it again. Dare he speak the truth? Considering there was still a decent chance that Manuel might kill him, he may as well give it a shot. It could very well be the truth that saved his ass. He thought about all the episodes of COPS he had watched, recalling that running from the police was already a potential felony and that lying once you were caught was like trying to put out a fire with gasoline.

In Mats’ case, he had already committed the offense of running, so he had no excuse but to be honest.

He also remembered how the cops always wanted you to put your arms up until they handcuffed you, so he put his hands on top of his head before he began.

“Okay. You’re going to laugh at me, but Thomas convinced me that it would be a good idea to buy Benedikt these chocolates at Kroger, so I was just looking for him. Benedikt, I mean. But I couldn’t find him at your table, so I just, you know. Ran away.”

“What are you running for?” Manuel frowned.

“I got scared,” Mats admitted.

Manuel nodded, taking all of this in. “Fair enough.”

He considered what that meant for Benedikt’s case. If his friend had indeed gone to Mats’ and Thomas’ favorite lunch spot like he said he was going to, then that meant he would’ve encountered only the latter. Would he still have extended the invitation to Thomas despite Mats not being there? It was more than likely. Still, Manuel didn’t want to take any chances. He really had been looking forward to seeing a movie with the Müller kid.

He felt shy all of a sudden. He reached up to smooth down his hair, as if doing so would help him get the answer he wanted to the question he was about to ask.

“Okay, look. I’m gonna explain all of this to you, but first let me ask you something,” Manuel said.

“Ask away,” said Mats.

“So, um, he and I were wondering if you and Thomas wanted to go the mall with us or something tomorrow? I mean, it was Benni’s idea and that’s why he wasn’t here because he was gonna go ask you guys, but, well…”

“ _This_ happened,” Mats finished for him.

“Yep. Exactly.”

“Welcome to my daily life.”

“So what do you say? You could give the chocolates to him then. I’m sure he’d really like them,” Manuel said, praying that the other boy would agree - if not for Manuel’s impromptu crush on Thomas, for Benedikt. Manuel wanted Benedikt to get a Valentine so badly that he had been considering buying one on his own dime and delivering it anonymously to his doorstep. Although that might’ve been suspicious seeing as it would’ve been a day late and also happen to appear a day after Benedikt revealed his disappointment. Benedikt wasn’t stupid.

Mats, in the meantime, was still processing the invitation he had just received. “Wait, what? Are you _kidding_?” he sputtered.

“Nah,” said Manuel.

Mats looked like he’d just been told Christmas was coming early. “Oh, yeah, sure! What time?”

“I don’t know, I’ll talk to Benni. Let me get your number so I can text you tomorrow,” Manuel said, pulling his cell out of his pocket.

Mats recited his number, his voice cracking dramatically on several occasions as Manuel put each digit into his phone.

It slowly began to sink in: This was the biggest chance with Benedikt that he’d ever have. But that meant that the possibilities to fuck up were also endless.

\---

Benedikt didn’t try very hard during PE. Today’s cardio was a bleacher run, and he jogged so slowly that he ended up holding back a long line of people after him, but no one dare tell the legendary Benedikt Höwedes to hurry up.

He was happy that Thomas Müller had agreed to meet him tomorrow. Maybe it was lucky that Mats hadn’t been around after all because it was much easier to ask him than it probably would’ve been the other boy. Why, though?

Benedikt knew why, but he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself yet.

“Someone tell this jerk to hurry up,” someone yelled from behind.

The old Benedikt would’ve yelled back at the culprit to shut up and perhaps lifted his middle finger in a complementary fashion, but the new and improved Benedikt picked up his pace a little bit. After all, he would need to pick up his pace a lot within the next 24 hours if he were to somehow gain Mats’ trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TV show of the day: [COPS](http://www.cops.com/about-us/)
> 
> Next chapter may or may not be the last, depending on how it turns out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I'm just gonna stop trying to give chapter estimates because clearly I have no self control...
> 
> With that being said, I'll also keep the poll open until the final chapter where I'll announce the outcome. If you haven't voted yet and would like to (or if you wanna cheat and vote twice then you can do that too I guess), the link is in the beginning notes of the previous chapter.

Two o’clock was the time at which Benedikt and Manuel were supposed to be picking up Thomas and Mats. Manuel had texted Mats the previous night to make arrangements; Thomas still hadn’t told Mats that he had Benedikt’s number and wasn’t planning on it until he was fairly certain that he wasn’t about to witness part two of the Reus incident. It was all for Mats’ own good, he figured.

The countdown to 2 had been a long and agonizing affair. It was now 1:57, and Mats, having already brushed his teeth and slapped on an extra layer of deodorant, had nothing left to do but sit and wait. His mutt Sampson was crashed out on his lap, and Mats was fondly scratching the dog’s ears.

He had his headphones in and was listening to his music so loudly that when Thomas tried to tell him something, he only saw the movement of his friend’s mouth without hearing a word.

“Huh?” said Mats. He pulled out his earbuds one at a time.

“I said,” Thomas huffed in annoyance, “that I’m starting to have second thoughts about this… I mean, it all seems kinda funny, don’t ya think? I just don’t understand.”

“You’re the one who got all defensive when I started dissing him,” Mats pointed out.

“That’s different, though. That was about buying him a Valentine because he was upset about never having gotten any. _This_ is about them inviting us to hang out. _Us,_ Mats.”

Thomas waved his arm between the two of them to clarify who ‘us’ was referring to.

“I don’t know. Give it a chance first. Maybe they’ll blow us off, who knows.”

Thomas paced past the front door, running his hand over the doorknob as he peered out the window. “They’re not here.”

“They will be,” Mats said, trying to sound confident. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure himself, he had to put a little faith in Benedikt and Manuel. It was only fair to look past their stereotypes.

“Shit, I have to pee again.”

“Because you’ve been drinking so much water.”

“Because my mouth is so dry!”

“Because you’re just nervous.”

“Because, I don’t know, maybe I’m about to go hang out with _Manuel Neuer_ or something.”

“Hey, Benedikt and I are gonna be there, too,” Mats reminded him. “Plus it’s not like the four of us haven’t spent time together before. I don’t see the difference between now and Thursday.”

“The difference is that that was _coincidental_ and we weren’t supposed to be making ourselves look good, but this is… UGH. I just need to pee, leave me alone.”

“You know what, you’re right. You looked awful, you were shirtless and covered in trash, no offense. But now we’re prepared and we’re _so_ much better off this time. Seriously dude. You’re psyching yourself out way too much.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE,” Thomas yelled, slamming the door behind him.

Mats blinked.

He loved his friend to death, but he could be just plain dramatic sometimes.

While Thomas locked himself in the bathroom for the tenth time in the past five minutes, Mats got up - earning a glare from Sampson - and went into the kitchen for a drink himself. He wasn’t freaking out nearly as much as Thomas was; in fact, he was surprisingly calm given the situation. But a little anxiety was still inevitable, and he found that his own mouth felt dry and sticky too.

While Mats was pouring a glass of orange juice, his dad came in from the toolshed, wearing safety goggles and covered in wood dust.

“Can you go back where you came from?” Mats asked as nicely as he could, though it was hard not to grimace at how embarrassing his dad looked right now.

“Why? Worried I’ll embarrass you?” Mr. Hummels stepped further into the kitchen, his arms spread out almost as wide as his grin was so that Mats could gauge the embarrassment potential in its entirety.

Mats would’ve happily responded had he not been already sipping on his orange juice.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Mats froze, the orange juice still sitting in his mouth; Sampson scrambled off the couch and started barking his head off; Thomas leapt out of the bathroom, still fumbling with the button on his jeans.

“I’ll get it,” Mr. Hummels bellowed.

Mats spat his juice out all over the counter. “Dad, no!”

But it was too late. He was already halfway to the front door and by the time Mats had finished hastily wiping up the orange juice and rushed into the living room, he had opened it and begun conversing with the two boys standing on the porch.

“Sampson, shush,” Mats said awkwardly, leaning over to pet his dog as a means of occupying himself.

Thomas came up next to him. “Who would’ve guessed your _dad_ is more popular than we are?” he hissed.

Mats shrugged his shoulders. He’d never felt this self-conscious in his own house before, but Benedikt Höwedes apparently had that effect on him.

After what felt like an eternity, Mr. Hummels let Benedikt and Manuel into the house and then, to Mats’ great relief, disappeared into the toolshed once more.

“Hey,” Benedikt said with a bashful smile. Sampson had bounded up to him and he looked a little flustered, trying to decide whether to push the dog off or to pet him. Eventually, the blond gave in and began to pat Sampson’s head.

“Well, you ready to go?” Manuel said.

“Why not?” Thomas piped up.

Mats felt himself nodding. Something about seeing Benedikt playing with his dog, inside his own home had rendered him speechless. Outside the context of school, Benedikt seemed like a completely different person. He was more relaxed, his posture not as rigid and his hair just slightly off its usual beat. Mats had always considered him hot, but today, he might’ve even been a little _cute_ , too.

He and Thomas followed the other two boys outside.

“You have dog hair all over your ass, by the way,” Thomas whispered.

“Can you get it off?” Mats whispered back.

Thomas slapped Mats’ butt a few times. “There.”

“Thanks, dude.”

“What about me? Do I look alright?”

“Just… just try not to lift up your arms too much,” Mats whispered in regard to Thomas’ blossoming pit stains.

“God dammit.”

\---

Mats could be astonishingly naïve a lot of the time. Not to say that Thomas wasn’t a total dork himself but more often than not, he was the more cautious of the two, more aware of himself and his surroundings. The main difference was that he evaluated the situation to an extent before he took risks; Mats just either took them or he didn’t.

When they were younger, Mats had struggled with what they called ‘personal space’ issues. He was also slower than his peers to develop a natural sense of hygiene and for the longest time couldn’t figure out when he should wash his hands or why it wasn’t appropriate for him to eat the crackers that he dug out from the car’s floorboards. (And if you thought that little kids _eating_ their boogers is gross enough, Mats was definitely a lot more creative when coming up with new uses for the treasures he dug out of his nose.)

Needless to say, he had now improved significantly. But it had been a long fought battle and Thomas often still worried for his friend. The fact that he wasn’t nervous was a little frightening to Thomas, who felt a little sick to his stomach.

On the other hand, Mats had cleaned up brilliantly today. Thomas was proud of him; he really was a good looking kid when he brushed his hair and put on things other than baggy sweats. Today he wore a black and gray North Face, skinny jeans with Vans, and around his shoulders was a string bag containing the chocolates for Benedikt. If Thomas were to be honest, he was a little envious at how well his friend could pull it off with such little conscious effort.

Thomas pulled at his collar before he climbed into the backseat of Benedikt’s infamous Acura RLX. He hoped that he wouldn’t sweat too much.

Once they were both in and before Benedikt had settled into the driver’s seat, Mats reached over and squeezed Thomas’ knee reassuringly.

Thomas gave a thumbs up without lifting his arm from his leg.

Mats grinned back, a mixture of excitement and nerves.

At first, Thomas was a bit uncomfortable being in the Acura. He thought that he might ruin it if he touched anything. But Benedikt and Manuel soon began talking, leaving no room for awkward silences. It was easy to talk to them, and Thomas’ nerves slid away.

“Mr. Hummels. Gotta love him,” Benedikt said happily as he put the car into drive. “Only teacher who doesn’t give out homework just because he can.”

“He spends half the class telling stories about his personal life, too. Which is great,” Manuel added.

“But… have you _learned_ anything this year?” Mats asked incredulously.

“Plenty,” said Manuel. “My personal favorite was when he talked about the time you guys went on vacation but left all the luggage in the driveway.”

Mats’ cheeks darkened while Thomas snorted.

“They were going to the beach,” Thomas interjected, unable to help himself because the forgotten luggage fiasco happened to be one of his favorite Hummels family tales as well.

Benedikt glanced up into the rearview mirror. “What I wanna know is what happened _after_ your dad opened the trunk and realized nothing was actually in there. Because he never got to that part.”

“We spent the next four days at Walmart trying to remember everything that we packed,” said Mats. “It wasn’t a very fun vacation. I had to hold up my swim trunks every time a wave came because they were, like, three sizes too big.”

“Mats threw a tantrum because he can’t sleep without his stuffed rabbit,” Thomas supplied.

“Aww,” Benedikt giggled.

“You little punk,” Mats mumbled, reaching over and giving his friend a hearty shove. His entire face and half his neck were now stained a deep shade of crimson.

They had reached a stoplight just before the highway. Manuel was flipping through the radio, landing on the alternative rock station. He looked over his shoulder.

“This okay?”

“Yep,” said Thomas quickly.

“Fine by me,” said Mats, clearly glad the subject was changing.

Thomas leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He could still feel Mats sitting next to him, adrenaline causing his friend to fidget about incessantly.

It was simple with the four of them being together; Thomas had Mats for support, and Manuel had plenty of people to divide his attention among. But he also craved a little alone time with his crush and wondered how things would play out at the mall. He felt braver with Mats by his side and he loved Mats to death, but he also wanted to be independent of his friend. He just wanted to be Thomas Müller.

For now, all he could do was enjoy the ride as Benedikt zipped down the highway and the music blared in his ears.

\---

“Well, what do you guys wanna do?” Mats posed to the group once they were all inside after having made a bit of a mad dash through the parking garage. It was bitterly cold outside, and Thomas was rubbing his palms together viciously. Benedikt had his arms wrapped around himself, the tips of his ears and nose bright pink.

“Shop,” said Benedikt.

“I wanna see a movie,” said Manuel.

“Movie for me. Should we split up?” Thomas suggested, a little too quickly to sound completely neutral. His heart was beating really fast.

Benedikt and Manuel exchanged a look. The lighter blond pursed his lips, hiding any reaction Thomas could’ve detected from him. The darker blond swallowed visibly.

Mats just shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping that Thomas’ suggestion would become a reality but wishing to stay out of it.

“Will you shop with me, Mats?” Benedikt asked, eyes still locked with Manuel.

Mats was caught off guard; he didn’t know what it was at first, but then he realized that that was the first time he’d ever heard Benedikt say his name. He liked the way it sounded coming from those lips…

“Yes. Of course.”

And so they split off, Thomas and Manuel catching the escalator to the upper floor, leaving the other two standing alone by the mall directory.

\---

Benedikt and Manuel hadn’t yet explicitly discussed their feeling for the other two boys with one another, but they knew each other well enough to draw the conclusions. Benedikt in particular was glad that it was Thomas who had suggested the split off, because neither of the two footballers would’ve dared push their luck that far. The problem was, now he was a little unsure. He hadn’t been alone with Mats since he’d cried in the bathroom on Valentine’s Day. What was one supposed to say after something like that happens? He certainly could no longer pull off the whole tough, popular kid stance, because Mats knew basically everything.

Halfway to the movie theater now, Manuel was thinking hard. He had to show Thomas that it wasn’t only Benedikt who wanted this. He wanted it now, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offense to myself but this chapter wasn't very good and not very easy to write. Unfortunately it had to be included because we needed some build up before the date, but now that that's dry and dusted all the fun can begin hehehehe.
> 
> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up... I haven't had time to prepare it in advance as I worked all weekend, and now it's back to class (booooo). But I will get it done, you'll just have to be a bit more patient than usual :)
> 
> Love you guys. [And yes even you little ghost readers although I wish you'd come out of your hiding spots.] You all are the reason I didn't give up after the first chapter. I'm writing this because I enjoy it, but I'm also writing it for you. I know I say this every chapter and it's probably super annoying and repetitive but seriously, I mean it so I will continue to say it. THANK YOU <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. The date! I tried to make this chapter a little longer to make up for taking so long to get it up so I hope you like it!
> 
> Also, today/tomorrow (depending on where you live) is a very special day that happens once every four years. BENNI'S BIRTHDAY. I LOVE YOU BENEDIKT HöWEDES, MOST HANDSOME, PRECIOUS LITTLE ADORABLE PUPPY FLOWER ON THE PLANET.
> 
> Ahem. Okay. Now that that's over with...

Mats normally hated shopping. He wasn’t much into fashion and pretty much just wore clothes for humility’s sake. But if going shopping meant that he could spend a private afternoon with his crush, then he’d gladly shop till he dropped.

“So, anywhere you wanna go?” Benedikt asked.

“You can pick,” Mats replied, keeping his eyes glued to the directory. “I don’t really shop a lot.”

“Well, we could just walk around a bit?”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright.”

Mats waited until Benedikt had taken a step away to begin following. He was by the other boy’s side, but about half a pace behind - a gap great enough so that there was a safe distance between them yet narrow enough so that they were still technically together.

He couldn’t help but stare at Benedikt’s back. Even when the footballer was wearing a thick jacket and a scarf, it was impossible to miss how fit he was. But every time Benedikt turned to check on him, Mats would look away as fast as he could, his face warming sheepishly.

He wanted to say something, but he’d already been the one to start the conversation during their last little unconventional gathering. He didn’t want the blond to think that he was too desperate or a pushover. Eventually, Benedikt seemed to take the hint. He suddenly stopped walking while Mats kept going.

Once Mats got the memo, he came to an ungraceful halt which involved him stumbling over his own feet a bit.

“Do you wanna come walk next to me? You’re making me feel weird like this,” Benedikt said quietly.

“Oh, okay, sure.”

They started walking once again and this time, Mats concentrated on his Vans to make sure that he didn’t fall behind or rush ahead.

“Damn. Do people really think I’m _that_ much of a jerk?”

“I don’t think you’re a jerk,” Mats said, directing his voice to his feet. _Well, not anymore,_ he almost added. He couldn’t tell whether Benedikt was joking or if the fact that he was too afraid to walk next to him really did hurt his feelings.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

Benedikt hesitated, and Mats realized that he probably didn’t seem very hospitable right now. He was mumbling, refusing to face Benedikt, and had only just begun walking next to him. So he lifted his chin - not necessarily to look at him, but to let him know that he was listening. It seemed to work, and Benedikt went on.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For, you know. Being with me on Thursday.”

“Anytime,” Mats said. He suddenly felt a little too warm to be in his North Face. “I mean, I would’ve done it for anyone. I would’ve felt bad to just leave you in there like that.”

Benedikt moved a little closer and his arm brushed Mats’ arm. The touch sent a funny yet pleasant flurry from the point of contact all the way to Mats’ stomach.

“Thank you for staying,” Benedikt repeated.

“You’re welcome. Do you feel better at all?”

Benedikt let out a tiny sigh. “Yeah, I do… I mean, I guess the whole thing was kinda stupid. It’s fine.”

“It sucks to not get a Clandestine Cupid. I never get any either,” Mats pointed out. Though he was only trying to console Benedikt, he knew that the other boy probably had it much worse than he did because Mats already knew that his chances of getting a Cupid were slim to none whereas Benedikt had likely been expecting at least a couple.

“Yeah, but you don’t fucking cry about it at school,” Benedikt said, sounding like he’d just tasted something sour.

“It doesn’t matter. I really don’t care about that.”

“But you still probably can’t name anyone besides me who you’ve seen literally crying at school this year.”

“Oh, fine,” Mats conceded. He didn’t want to talk about this. It made him feel a little uneasy how much the other boy was forcing it. Even so, he began to tick off his fingers, racking his brains for his crush’s sake. “Okay, let’s see… Mario Götze when he got a B on his biology test freshman year - ”

“This year.”

“Damn. Okay. Uh… I don’t know, you’re really putting me on the spot here. Listen, I know it sucks, but nobody saw you but me and like I said, it doesn’t matter to me. I still like you.”

“Really?”

“Um. Yes?”

“Why though?”

“You ask too many questions, Benedikt.”

“Hey,” Benedikt said defensively, nudging Mats’ side.

Mats giggled and pushed him back. Wait, was he actually _flirting_ with Benedikt Höwedes?

He couldn’t help himself anymore. He turned his head and his eye caught the other boy’s eye. For several seconds, they just stared at one another. Mats felt mesmerized - Benedikt’s eyes were so bright. He couldn’t have looked away if he tried.

Eventually, Benedikt’s gaze fell away and he bit back a smile. It couldn’t have been a full minute before they were glancing at each other again. It was Mats this time who was the first to turn away shyly, and he had to cover his mouth for a second to hide his own giddy grin. His heart had swelled to twice its size.

Now that the ice had been broken, this was probably Mats’ best opportunity to break out the chocolates. At the same time, however, it seemed like a terrible idea given what they’d just finished discussing. As if the gesture were nothing more than a ‘I feel sorry for you, so here.’ He wanted it to mean more than that.

He fingered the strings that hung down his torso, debating if the perfect opportunity would ever realistically come and deciding that it wouldn’t.

“Hey, can we sit down for a minute? I want to give you something,” Mats said, indicating the lounge area between the escalators. It wasn’t really private, but it offered a little more seclusion than the rest of the mall.

“Of course.”

They sat down at the end of one of the couches. Another couple was sitting at the other end, so the two boys situated themselves much closer to one another than they would have naturally, leaving a respectable distance between themselves and the strangers. Mats’ leg was touching Benedikt’s, and they were so close that if either of them leaned forward a bit, they could be kissing.

Mats wiggled awkwardly out of his string bag and put in on his lap. He could feel Benedikt watching him as he stuck his hand into the bag and fumbled around for the chocolates. When he pulled it out, a lot of other things came out too and fell onto the floor - various receipts, some empty wrappers, and an ancient package of crumbs which used to be Saltines that he’d forgotten about until now.

“Oh - ” Mats mumbled as he bent over to pick up his trash, all the blood rushing to his head.

Benedikt leaned over to help.

“Sorry, thanks,” Mats said. He shoved everything back into his bag then held it open so Benedikt could deposit what he’d collected in there too.

Luckily, the box of chocolates had stayed situated in his lap. Not to say that it wasn’t in rough shape anyhow - its corners were busted, and the chocolates themselves had cracks in them and were kinda mushy. Mats did a quick inspection to ensure that everything was still edible. It appeared to be so, which was fortunate seeing as it was all he had prepared to show for himself.

Mats cleared his throat.

“So… I know I’m really late, but I just wanted to give this to you as a Valentine.”

He waited for Benedikt to react before he continued. The blond boy’s face had lit up with a mixture of uncertainty and delight upon mention of the word _Valentine_ , his hands clasped together and resting just above his belly button.

“So, yeah. Here you go,” Mats finished, shoving the box of chocolates into Benedikt’s lap like he couldn’t wait to get rid of it.

Benedikt’s hands moved up to his mouth and he began biting his fingertips. After several seconds of him staring off into space, he stopped chewing his fingers and wiped his eyes.

“Is it okay?” Mats asked anxiously.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting this at all, and… No one’s ever done this for me before,” Benedikt said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Well, I hope they’re tasty,” Mats said. His heart was pounding so viciously that he was worried it might beat right out of his chest.

Benedikt lifted his scarf and dragged it across his face. When he came out, he was grinning ear to ear and his eyes were sparkling with moisture. “Thank you. This means a lot to me. It really does,” he gushed.

What happened next, Mats definitely was not prepared for. Benedikt hugged him and for a moment, he just sat there stiffly, wondering if he should reciprocate or not. He was a little wary about it. What if he was a terrible hugger?

After a very short consideration, he just closed his eyes and wrapped his arms as best he could around the other boy’s shoulders. Blond hair tickled his ear, and Benedikt’s back felt very hot beneath his palms. He smelled really good, too. Like clean sheets and a little like the weather outside with a dash of cologne. When Benedikt let go and leaned back, Mats just sat there with his mouth agape.

Benedikt kept grinning. “You’re cute.”

“So are you,” Mats blurted.

If possible, Benedikt grinned even more than he already was. He looked incredibly different when he smiled - softer and more approachable, whereas his prominently angular face shape usually gave off a harsher demeanor. Harsh but sexy. Mats couldn’t stop staring at his cheekbones.

“Well, should we dig in?”

“Now?” Mats said dumbly.

“Why not?”

Benedikt pulled off the ribbon, removed the lid, and popped a chocolate into his mouth. While he was chewing, he got another chocolate and held it out for Mats, who didn’t take it. Benedikt resorted to pressing the little square against Mats’ lips, which resulted in plenty of giggling and Mats eating the chocolate on his own accord after all.

He hoped that the afternoon would never end. He was having too much fun.

\---

They had just finished buying their tickets, and Thomas was sweating, alright. He was sweating so much that it made the dry skin on the back of his hands sting. He felt clammy and awkward, his heart was racing, and his stomach was doing tight somersaults. He kept trying to dry his hands off on his pants, but what he really wanted to do was dip into the men’s room and wash them, maybe grab a sip of water too so he could stop feeling so gross.

He thought he would be able to hide his anxiety until his breath started coming in short. The fact that his throat felt swollen and parched didn’t help too much. And the more he thought about the task of breathing, the harder it became.

While Manuel had his head tilted back slightly to see what was on the menu at the snack bar, Thomas took the opportunity to run his forearm across his sweaty hairline. He held his arm out in front of him when he was finished. It was trembling conspicuously. He cursed.

“What is it?” Manuel asked.

Thomas just shook his head mutely, in slow motion so as not to rattle himself any more than he already was. While he was prone to getting nervous sometimes, it never got _this_ bad.

“You good?”

“Mostly,” said Thomas, though he struggled to get even the lone word out.

“Mostly? That’s not good enough. Would you want your pilot to know _mostly_ how to fly the plane?”

Thomas laughed a little bit, but it came out as more of a series of breathy pants, causing Manuel to raise his eyebrows.

So Mats had been correct after all. Thomas had totally psyched himself out and now he was suffering the consequences. He shouldn’t have suggested splitting up because he clearly couldn’t handle it; come to think of it, a movie wasn’t really the best way to get to know another person anyway because it wasn’t like you could talk much during it. That’s why Thomas didn’t like movies. He liked to talk.

Unless it was with his crush, apparently. If it was his crush, he would rather just melt and disappear.

“Come on, let’s go sit down,” Manuel insisted. “I can get the snacks later.”

Thomas trailed after Manuel into the theater, where the latter chose a pair of seats right in the middle. Thomas leaned back into his, relieved he wasn’t having to support himself on his jelly-turned legs anymore.

“Sorry about that. I - I just have random panic fits sometimes,” he stammered, feeling rather ashamed of himself for being so weak.

“Don’t apologize. I just don’t want you passing out or anything on my watch. Wouldn’t want that happening, would we?”

Manuel’s lip quirked into a slight smile. The fact that Manuel wasn’t freaking out over Thomas freaking out helped Thomas calm down a little bit. The footballer seemed wholly unbothered about having a panicky, embarrassing wreck in his presence.

“True,” Thomas agreed. He was already beginning to feel much better. He was still trembling, but that was more due more to how cold the theater was than nervousness. He pulled his sleeves over his hands and tucked himself into his sweater as best he could.

After making sure that Thomas was all settled in, Manuel went to the snack bar and returned with two overpriced sodas and one overpriced bucket of popcorn.

He held out the bucket to Thomas before he even sat down, and the boy grabbed a handful of popcorn. Several pieces fell out onto his lap as he shoved them into his mouth, which earned him an amused frown from Manuel. He stopped chewing for a moment to beam up at the footballer.

“Such a clown,” Manuel said as he fell into his seat.

“Whoa, hey now,” said Thomas.

“I’m just teasing you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Thomas replied, blushing furiously.

They were both quiet for a moment. Thomas sipped on the soda that Manuel had brought him, peeking out of the corner of his eye to catch glimpses of the goalkeeper; Manuel was pushing his lip back and forth with his teeth, evidently giving some thought to one thing or another.

The lights were beginning to go dim and the previews were starting, but people were still streaming in, so Manuel needed only to lower his voice a little bit.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Thomas resorted to nodding because his mouth was still clenched around his straw.

“I hope I’m not making you feel uncomfortable,” Manuel said a little tentatively.

Thomas spoke so quickly that he almost blew bubbles in his drink. “You’re not. I promise. It’s just a me thing. Ask Mats, I’m like this all the time.”

“Oh, good.”

Thomas thought it might be best to keep his mouth shut before he started rambling.

“Thank you for reaching out to me, Thomas,” Manuel said rather plainly.

“You’re welc - I mean, I didn’t do much, but - ”

“You sent me that Valentine, and if you hadn’t done that then Benni wouldn’t have had this idea.”

“Oh, right,” Thomas said humbly.

“This is nice. I’d really like to spend more time with you. Only if you would wanna do it too, of course.”

Thomas’ chest did a funny little swoop. “Yeah, that would be fun.”

He thought that Manuel was going to say more, but was almost relieved when the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. What the blond implied had already sent enough butterflies flying around his stomach; if there were any more, he surely would begin to feel woozy again.

He wondered how Mats was doing with Benedikt. Mats didn’t really get nervous like Thomas did per se, but he could be rather idiotic at times. He prayed to god that Benedikt hadn’t wanted to stop and get something to eat because that surely would’ve been bad news for Mats…

But he wasn’t supposed to be worrying about Mats right now. After all, Mats was almost an adult and he did know the difference between when it was okay to slack off and when he needed to pull his shit together.

When the movie started, Thomas found it impossible to pay even the slightest bit of attention. For one thing, the most attractive boy in the entire school was sitting next to him. For another, he never had had much of an attention span for movies in the first place. He usually fell asleep during them. Today, however, every time he started drifting off, he would remember that he was on a date of sorts with Manuel Neuer and jolt awake again.

At one point, Thomas reached for the popcorn at the same time Manuel did. Their hands clashed. Thomas couldn’t help but let out a little squeal, causing several people sitting in the next row down to turn around and and hush them. But Manuel ignored Thomas’ rather unmasculine slip-up and clamped his hand around the other boy’s instead.

“Shh,” Manuel teased him.

Thomas wouldn’t have been surprised if he had actual hearts floating around in his eyes at that moment.

\---

About halfway through the movie, Manuel felt something warm and heavy drop onto his shoulder.

Thomas Müller was dozing, his mouth slightly parted and his eyelashes flirting with his cheeks. The light from the screen illuminated his face, and Manuel swore that he’d never seen anything more adorable in his life. The way Thomas was snuggled so determinedly in his sweater made Manuel want to tear off his own jacket and arrange it around the other boy.

Why had he never looked twice at this boy before? He was sweet, cute, and best of all he _liked Manuel back_ \- if a Clandestine Cupid could accurately determine that, that is, which for all intents and purposes it probably could. Manuel just hoped that Thomas would grow more comfortable around him so that his true personality would shine through. But even beneath all the nervousness, Manuel could tell that he was someone who liked to have fun and was interested in the world. Kind of like Benedikt had always been before he became obsessed with himself.

Manuel let Thomas sleep for the rest of the movie, partly because he didn’t have the soul to wake him up and cause a disturbance, and partly because he was rather enjoying the sight and the feeling.

When the credits came on, the lights brightened and people started standing up again, Thomas became roused. He made a sleepy noise, his head still tucked firmly in the crook of Manuel’s neck.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Manuel said. He reached up and around Thomas’ back to ruffle his hair.

“Oh shit,” Thomas croaked, reluctantly pulling himself away. “I’m sorry I fell asleep, I just didn’t sleep very well last night because I was too excited and kept tossing and turning - ”

“You’re fine,” Manuel laughed. _Excited about what?_ he wanted to ask.

Thomas yawned while Manuel scooped up both of their empty soda cups and dropped them into the empty popcorn container.

“Well, you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Thomas replied. He stood up slowly and stretched and once he was ready, followed the footballer out of the aisle.

Manuel waited for Thomas, and then they walked side by side out of the theater. “If you don’t like movies, we can do something else next time.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I picked this time, you can pick next time. What do you like to do?”

Thomas thought hard. What _did_ he like to do? Besides scoping out the craziest episodes of COPS with Mats and indulging in the occasional baking project, he didn’t do much of anything worth mentioning. During the summers, he and Mats were on the swim and dive teams at their pool. Mats was much better at diving seeing as his stamina was close to zero, but Thomas, being too clumsy and unfocused to execute a pretty dive, was the better swimmer. Plus, he always got too cold just standing in line outside the water waiting for his turn on the diving board. That being said, it wasn’t like he could suggest he and Manuel go to the indoor pool so he could show off by swimming laps. He _would_ get to see Manuel shirtless, though -

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“Baking. And swimming,” Thomas admitted.

“You like to swim?”

“Yep.”

“Well, isn’t there that big indoor waterpark we could go to?”

“I mean - ”

“Oh, come on. I picked this time and you literally fell asleep during it so now it’s your turn. Let’s go to the waterpark, and then we can come back and you show me how to make a cake. How’s that sound for a date?”

“Well…” Thomas said, just because he wasn’t exactly sure how romantic running around at a dirty waterpark with a bunch of little kids would be. It honestly sounded a bit like the kind of thing Mats would come up with for second date ideas. He knew the waterpark Manuel was talking about though because Mario Götze had had his 8th birthday party there, and if he remembered correctly, it was also equipped with a regular pool and a hot tub. Furthermore, the idea of there even being a ‘next time’ in the first place was compelling enough for Thomas to put everything else aside for now.

“Sure. That sounds good to me. I mean, of course.”

Manuel looked at Thomas happily. The moment Thomas realized this, he also happened to trip and stumble over the carpet. Fortunately, he managed to catch himself before he face-planted, albeit by flailing his arms about stupidly.

He burst out laughing and so did Manuel.

\---

At around the same time Manuel’s and Thomas’ movie ended, the chocolates were all gone and Mats had a shopping bag full of new clothes that Benedikt had helped him choose. The entire hour they spent catching each other’s eyes, smiling simultaneously and then bashfully looking away. They talked about their hobbies. Mats informed Benedikt about how he volunteered at the animal shelter sometimes to socialize the dogs and cats. He learned that although football was Benedikt’s main thing, he also loved to sketch and make graphics.

“Of what?” Mats asked.

“Clothes and stuff,” Benedikt said. “I like to design things.”

“Figures.”

“So you really like animals?”

“Yeah, you could say so. If you’re nice to them, then they’re usually nice to you. They don’t care if you’re ugly or unpopular.”

“You’re lucky you have a dog. My parents won’t let us get one,” Benedikt told him.

“Well, maybe I can bring you to the shelter with me sometime? A lot of the animals are pretty traumatized, so they need a lot of attention before they can start trusting people and other dogs again,” Mats explained.

“I’d love to. Maybe next weekend?”

“Well, I usually go after school cause it’s always crowded on weekends with people looking to adopt.”

“Ah. I’ve got practice during the week,” Benedikt replied, sounding disappointed.

The conversation was interrupted for a moment while Mats paid for a shirt with quarter length sleeves which Benedikt had approved of. While he was collecting his change, Benedikt picked out a bracelet and had the cashier ring it up.

“For you,” he said once they were leaving the store. “For the chocolates.”

“Thanks,” Mats said, accepting the gift and sliding it over his wrist. The metal part felt cold, but it fit perfectly.

“So… about the shetler. Well, we start matches in about a month and I’ll have Fridays and some Wednesdays off.”

“Works for me. No rush, the shelter will still be there in a month,” Mats said, even though he was thinking the opposite: There _was_ a rush, and he wanted to hang out with Benedikt again as soon as possible. And just as it always happen when things are going well, Mats started to get ahead of himself. He imagined sitting in the stands at one of the home football games. Benedikt would score some spectacular goal and then wave at him from the pitch while the student section erupted into cheers. He’d then be invited along with the team to the traditional post-win dinner, exclusive to the players themselves and their significant others…

“Oh, yeah. Call me Benni, by the way. My mom is pretty much the only person who calls me Benedikt.”

“Benni?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I will.”

\---

The four boys met up again at the food court for burgers and fries, after which they all piled back into Benedikt’s Acura to head home. It was nearly dinner time, and though Thomas would rather spend the whole night with his crush, he knew it was probably better not to exhaust his welcome. They had to leave something for next time, after all. That seemed to be the unspoken sentiment among all four of them.

“Do I have ketchup around my mouth?” Mats had hissed urgently to Thomas when Benedikt got up to collect more napkins.

Manuel snorted good-naturedly into his burger, though he otherwise pretended not to hear.

“Nope, you’re good,” Thomas said. He was quite proud of his friend, who seemed to have miraculously remembered all of the table manners his parents had drilled into him all his life. And if Mats could go a full day without licking food residue off of his fingers, then it was no doubt a good day.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! The next one will be a little epilogue that occurs some time in the future.
> 
> If you're interested in the final poll results, Part 2 of Long Way Home (AKA Mats going to Germany to visit his ex-exchange student Benni) was the winner by far. The planning for that fic has already begun, and I'm very excited about it. I don't know when it'll be up because inspiration hasn't been a friend to me lately, but I can tell you that it's definitely happening :) I haven't ruled out a follow-up for this one or for Lab Safety/Into the Wild - I have some vague ideas for both of them - but for now I will focus on Long Way Home 2.

Thomas and Mats were upstairs in Thomas’ bedroom, the former splayed haphazardly across a bean bag chair and the latter lounging across his friend’s bed. It was about half past nine, and Mats had just finished telling Thomas about how he now possessed Benedikt’s phone number.

“Oh, you do now? Guess you don’t need this anymore then.”

Thomas stretched as far as he could to reach into his backpack, which was hanging off his desk chair, without having to actually move. He produced a crumpled up sheet of paper, crumpled it up even more than it already was, and threw it at Mats.

Mats opened the paper and squinted. Someone had written _Benni Höwedes_ in a hurried scrawl followed by ten digits. “What the hell, dude? How long have you had this?”

“Since yesterday.”

“Damn…” He stared at the writing, trying at the same time to wrap his mind around the fact that this very piece of paper had been in the hands of his crush.

“You gonna text him?”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“You should do it tonight. Otherwise he might think you’re not interested.”

“I don’t want to look desperate.”

“Mats,” Thomas said very clearly. “I can guarantee you that you and I have looked things a lot worse than _desperate_ throughout our tenure at high school.”

“True,” Mats nodded.

They ended up ordering pizza and spent the next half hour talking about their respective evenings at the mall. When Thomas’ dad hollered up the stairs that the pizza guy was here, Thomas leapt up and did a rather theatrical round of jazz hands, complemented by a triumphant yodel of sorts.

Mats rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. It was Thomas, after all, who had made all of this happen in the first place with that one decisive coin flip.

\---

_To: Benni - Hey this is Mats_

Mats sent the text right before he hopped in the shower and right after taking off his bracelet and putting it on top of his dresser for safe keeping. He decided not to write anything more; he’d let Benedikt do the talking.

As soon as he was finished showering, he wrapped a towel around his hips and went back to his room to check if he had received a message back, dripping wet and unrinsed soap still in his hair.

He pressed the home button on his phone and freaked out a little at the number of messages that popped up. Upon closer inspection they all initially appeared to be, as per usual, from Thomas. Hidden amidst all the Thomas spam, however, was a lone message that wasn’t composed in all capital letters.

_From: Benni - Hey :)_

Mats didn’t even bother to put his pajamas on. He just lay down on his bed with his phone in hand, watching the screen. His tummy jumped up to his throat when the “...” appeared, indicating that Benedikt was typing again.

_From: Benni - Thanks again for the chocolates_

_To: Benni - You’re welcome. Thanks for inviting me to hang out today, I really enjoyed it_

_From: Benni - Of course. I had fun too_

Mats waited to see if Benedikt would say anything else. The infamous “...” popped up and then disappeared again several times. The suspense was killing him. He eventually grew impatient and decided that he may as well get up and get his PJs on and brush his teeth while the other boy was making up his mind.

By the time he was finished and the lights in his room were off, there was still no text from Benedikt. Mats turned on the ringer and slid his phone underneath his pillow, telling himself that if it didn’t buzz in the next minute he would give in and send a text himself. He’d done pretty well so far, after all. He hadn’t double texted and his response time was perfect: not too prompt so as to make himself look like he had nothing better to do, but not delayed enough to cause Benedikt to get bored and go find something else to do.

The notification sounded muffled from underneath his pillow but still gave Mats a mini heart attack. He yanked his phone back out, propped it up comfortably between his comforter and his thumbs, and didn’t pull his eyes away from it for the next hour.

_From: Benni - I’m really sorry for swearing at you in the bathroom the other day. I didn’t mean it personally_

_To: Benni - Don’t worry about it, I understand._

_To: Benni - Are you okay?_

_From: Benni - Yes_

_To: Benni - It’s okay for you to not be okay. You don’t have to be happy all the time_

_From: Benni - I don’t want to burden you with my problems. They’re not even real problems_

_To: Benni - But I’m giving you permission to. If something’s bothering you then you’re allowed to be upset, you don’t need to qualify your problems by comparing them to whoever you think has it worse_

_To: Benni - You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m here if you want to_

Benedikt didn’t answer immediately, but Mats didn’t want to text again because he’d already sent two in a row. The prospect of having to go to sleep with the conversation still incomplete put him a little on edge. He wanted the great day he had had to end at an even higher point.

He opened all the apps on his phone then closed them again. He checked his email and was pleased to discover that the new headphones he’d ordered off Amazon had been shipped from the warehouse today. The anticipation of a text notification popping up was starting to drive him a little crazy, and he wondered if he should’ve just limited their first text conversation to small talk so as not to scare Benedikt away.

He touched the messaging icon once more. Still no “...” to be seen. This was it, he had probably blown it.

But just as he was welcoming defeat and preparing to tuck his phone back underneath his pillow and go to sleep, the screen lit up with a new text. Mats opened it a little more eagerly than he would’ve liked to admit.

_From: Benni - It’s just that I’m not as confident as you might think I am_

Mats’ thumbs got to work on a response, but stopped when he saw that Benedikt was still writing. After the first message came another, and then another after that, and Mats eventually decided to let the other boy have his say. Not to say that he was too disappointed about that.

_From: Benni - I feel like I try so hard to get other people to like me, but no matter what I do, people don’t even give me a chance because of who I am_

_From: Benni - But anything I do wrong and I get so much crap that I wonder if it’s even worth it. People make assumptions about me that aren’t true. This is why I don’t get drunk at parties anymore because some people will just look for any excuse to call me trash_

_From: Benni - First off, my parents aren’t rich and I’m not coddled. I don’t have my own car, I just use my dad’s. I get high test scores and good grades because I work my ass off, not because my parents spend thousands on prep classes. And I spend my own fucking money on my clothes because I like clothes, not just because I wanna look like a conceited douchebag_

_From: Benni - And every time I’m interested in someone and try to talk to them, it’s all apparently because I’m a player who just wants to have a fuck so I can brag about it. I’m so tired of it. Sometimes I just wanna give up. What’s the point?_

Mats was surprised by Benedikt’s confessions, but at the same time it only made sense and coincided with Thomas’ prediction. He wasn’t part of the ‘in crowd’ and had nothing to do with what happened outside of school, nor did he have any knowledge of it. This was his chance to prove Benedikt wrong, to show him that he was different.

_To: Benni - Don’t give up_

_From: Benni - I can’t wait to get out of here and go to college_

_To: Benni - You’ll get there_

_To: Benni - It’s human nature to judge people before we even know them. I never really thought about it from your perspective because you’ve always seemed so happy. It’s sad how much people will do to try and put you down just because they’re jealous_

_To: Benni - I don’t really know you too well, but I really want to know you. After today I know that you’re actually genuine_

_From: Benni - Thanks_

_To: Benni - But don’t give up. Keep on doing what you love, I don’t know if that’s playing football or drawing or something else, but keep on doing it and don’t worry what other people think. That comes naturally_

_From: Benni - God I’m sorry for whining so much_

_To: Benni - It’s fine, I promise. You’re not whining. I told you that you could talk to me and I’m glad that you did_

_From: Benni - I’m glad I did too_

_From: Benni - I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward today, I was just so happy that I couldn’t help hugging you lol_

_To: Benni - Oh that’s fine :)_

_To: Benni - I’m just happy that you were happy_

_From: Benni - I feel like I owe you something_

_To: Benni - You owe me nothing_

_From: Benni - You’re honestly one of the nicest people I’ve ever talked to. I hope you know how much this all means to me. I really want to be your friend_

_To: Benni - You treated me like a friend today, so I think it’s safe to say that we are :)_

Benedikt again didn’t respond immediately. It was a few minutes before Mats figured that things were going too well for him to resist trying his luck.

_To: Benni - Benni?_

_From: Benni - Sorry, I’m falling asleep, do you wanna talk tomorrow?_

Mats would’ve been lying if he said that he wasn’t disappointed, but he didn’t blame the other boy for being exhausted. It was past midnight, and Mats too was rather sleepy. He could barely keep his eyes open, having fought back his own exhaustion for the sake of taking full attention of the dedication Benedikt was showing him.

_To: Benni - Of course. You should try and get some rest anyway. Sleep well_

_From: Benni - You too. Goodnight hot stuff <3_

\---

“He called you _what_?”

“Hot stuff,” Mats repeated, cringing, not because he wasn’t elated but because it felt foreign coming out of his mouth. He never thought he’d be using the word ‘hot’ in reference to what someone else had said about him.

“ _Daaamn,_ ” said Thomas. “I mean, I’m not surprised because you looked, well, actually good on Saturday. In comparison to usual. Because you don’t usually try. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Manuel and I texted a lot over the weekend too, but we mainly just sent each other GIFs.”

“Sounds like you’ve found your soulmate,” said Mats, who never replied when Thomas sent him GIFs.

It was Monday morning, and they were back at school. Neither of them had spotted Benedikt or Manuel yet. Mats wasn’t sure whether he should be dreading or looking forward to that moment. After the late night of emotional texting, he didn’t know if it would be awkward to see Benedikt in person or whether things would’ve changed over the weekend. Would the footballers come up and talk to them and continue to treat them like friends? The real test came now at school, where their reputations were at stake.

The first test was easily passed.

Mats’ history class was entering the library to do research at the same time that Manuel’s class was leaving.

“Mats,” Manuel greeted him with a nod.

Everyone within earshot turned their heads, but Manuel didn’t lament his decision in the slightest.

“Hey,” Mats said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible even though he could feel the blood pounding underneath his face.

It was a quick encounter but a crucial one. If this was how Manuel responded to seeing him, then Mats couldn’t wait to see Benedikt.

He tried to focus on his research but only wrote down three things about the causes of World War I before he became lost in daydreams involving Benedikt. Mats wondered what he was doing at this very moment. What class was he in? What he focusing, or could he possibly be thinking about Mats too?

\---

Manuel spent most of the entirety of calculus Snapchatting Thomas. At one point, Thomas sent him a short video of himself attempting - and failing miserably - to wink, causing Manuel to smile uncontrollably down at his phone in his lap. That boy was just too cute.

\---

If truth be told, Benedikt was avoiding Mats that day. Not that he was likely to run into him anyway - they didn’t have any classes together, nor did they often cross paths between classes. But still, he put in extra effort in order to not run into him.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see Mats. He was just worried that Mats wouldn’t want to see _him_ after their text conversation on Saturday night. Every time he thought about it, his hair stood on end. Honestly, what had he been _thinking_? First of all, he’d confessed more than he ever had to anyone besides Manuel, and though he knew that Mats was cool with it, it still wasn’t something he was used to doing. He decided to blame it on the fact that it was so late at night, a time at which the things that one might regret the next day tend to happen. And then _hot stuff_? What year was this, 1980?

Besides, he’d been running late this morning and hadn’t had time to prep himself like he usually did, so he was wearing the same fleece joggers that he’d slept in and hadn’t gelled down that one piece of hair on the back of his head that always refused to cooperate.

Unfortunately for Benedikt, it seemed like his luck had run out because Mats was in line for the salad bar at the same time Benedikt was, and when the line made a 180 around the metal divider, it was impossible for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen Mats.

But even if he could have gotten away with it, he probably wouldn’t have tried.

Mats looked amazing. His hands were hanging loosely in his pockets, but still visible was the bracelet the Benedikt had bought him.

Mats glanced up then, catching Benedikt staring at him quite blatantly. One corner of his mouth jerked up, and Benedikt felt a huge grin pulling at his own cheeks.

In that moment, he felt so much affection for Mats that he didn’t care how dumb he looked feeling it. Not only because he was insanely attractive, but because he’d given Benedikt a chance despite all the evidence against it being deserved. He’d cared, he’d listened, and he still cared even after listening, which was the most important thing.

Never before had he been so grateful to have never received a Clandestine Cupid. If he had, he may have never looked twice at Mats Hummels.

“Hi, Benni.”

“Oh, hey,” Benedikt replied. “What are you doing here?’

“Getting my lunch,” Mats said as if Benedikt hadn’t just asked the most obvious question in the world. He grinned just before the line move up, pushing the two out of immediate sight from one another.

Benedikt bought a chicken caesar salad, a bag of potato chips, and a cookie before stepping back out in the cafeteria and waiting for his new friend to finish. His body was ringing with anticipation. He couldn’t help it anymore, he had to -

“Hey, do you wanna eat with me today?”

Benedikt popped out right in front of him as soon as he’d walked out of the salad bar, and Mats nearly dropped the bag of chips he’d just purchased. He quickly regained as much composure as he could given the situation.

“Today? Oh, yeah, sure.”

“Cool, where do you wanna sit?”

“At a table, maybe?” Mats suggested, still a little bumfuzzled.

“Good idea.”

They weaved their way through the crowded cafeteria in search of two consecutive empty seats. It was the first time that Mats would have ever sat at an actual table. Furthermore, it would be one of the few times he hadn’t eaten with his best friend Thomas, the only times when that had happened falling on days where one of them was absent or had to see a teacher or make up a test during lunch.

Speaking of Thomas… surely he would be wondering where Mats was. He couldn’t do this. Not today. He should at least warn Thomas before he just disappeared like this after all these years. But damn, how badly he wanted to ditch his best friend today if it meant reversing everything he’d ever been in high school…

“There’s nowhere to sit,” Benedikt concluded.

“Well, we could go sit on the stairs? Unless you wanna sit with your friends - ”

“Nah, I wanna sit with you. Let’s go.”

Mats couldn’t have been happier with the outcome. He was still getting to eat lunch with his crush without having to sacrifice who he truly was and his best friend. He almost couldn’t believe what was happening to him. The past week had been a sitcom with a happily ever after.

About five minutes into lunch, Manuel ended up texting Benedikt to ask where the hell he was and showed up about thirty seconds later, a little offended that he hadn’t been invited to join the party until now but nonetheless forgiving. And so the four of them ate lunch together on the staircase that up until today had been Thomas’ and Mats’ loser-haven.

It would always be theirs, but they didn’t mind sharing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's (almost) it folks! If you have any questions that I failed to answer in the story (about anything: plot, characters, development, etc.), feel free to ask them because I would love to answer. There are a lot of details I had in my mind that didn't make the fic simply because I wanted to focus on the plot and I would be more than happy to share them with you.
> 
> I've never known what it's like to be popular and I probably never will, but I do believe that all of us have a human desire to be accepted and to belong, and with the U.S. presidential election going on with all of the bullying and nasty attacks (cough cough Trump) on the candidates, I've been thinking more about how we treat each other, especially those we think are powerful. The farther away someone seems from us, the less we can connect with them and the more likely we are to 'fill in the blanks' about them with information that may or may not be true. This also leads to the idea that it's okay to say whatever we want because what we say won't hurt or reach the person. That's wrong. It does hurt, no matter who you are. The difference is whether you can take the mean comment for its face value and move on, or if you succumb to it. But just because someone is able to deflect the mean comment, that doesn't make it acceptable. And now I have to mention that cyberbullying is a real thing. I don't believe in the whole "oh just block them and turn off your computer" bullshit because guess what? Even if you turn off your computer, the bullying is still inside of you. Plus, that's like telling a someone who's being bullied in the workplace to just stop showing up to work. I just don't buy it.
> 
> TL;DR - Try not to be a shithead, whether that person sits next to you in class, is a person on Tumblr who probably lives on the other side of the world, or is running for president of the United States.
> 
> The point: In this fic, Benedikt seemed invincible in the eyes of Mats. Who would've guessed that he wasn't? That doesn't automatically mean that he's depressed and hates his life - he's still a happy kid who has hobbies that he loves, goals that he wants to reach and an invaluable BFF - but everybody has their insecurities.
> 
> Well now that I've shared all my thoughts, I wanna hear yours! Feel free to tell me anything, whether it's about this fic or about Donald Trump's spray tan/blow-dried mane (I know I just wrote a whole thing about being nice but...come on, he's a TOTAL asshole, we have to draw the line at some point).
> 
> As always, thanks a million for reading, I love you <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol hi.
> 
> So I know I said some time ago (3 months ago!!! someone's lazy!!) that there would be one more little chapter for an epilogue...but that little chapter actually turned out to be really dramatic because apparently I can't write anything normal. I would tell you to expect just one more chapter after this one, but I have no clue what I'm doing so I really can't tell you anything. The one thing I can say is that you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter as you did for this one because I've already written about half of it. To old readers, welcome back, and to new readers, welcome! I hope you like it :)

***months later***

By the time summer break rolled around, Manuel and Thomas were hanging out nearly everyday, but Benedikt and Mats had gone on just three more dates.

The latest one hadn’t been all that fun as it had been right after their school had been knocked out of the football playoffs, in part due to a disastrous mistake by Benedikt on the back line, leading to an easy shot which Manuel couldn’t have saved. They’d planned on going to dinner no matter the result of the game, but as both Mats and Thomas had screamed themselves hoarse in the stands and Benedikt refused to talk, it wasn’t exactly a night that would go down in any of their memory books. (Manuel had had so much to drink that he probably wouldn’t remember anything, anyway.)

Mats was daydreaming of a more memorable date (that one where he and Benedikt had gone kayaking and it turned into a competition to see who could splash the most water on the other, leading them to spend the next half hour huddled in each other’s arms in the back of Benedikt’s Acura with the heat blasting - Mats didn’t think he’d ever giggled that much in his entire life) when Thomas conveniently interrupted him.

“So. Manu and I are going to the fair tonight.”

“Okay. That’s great,” Mats said. He reached for the remote and turned off the television, which was showing reruns of COPS that neither he nor Thomas had really been paying attention to.

Thomas grinned, seemingly unaware of Mats’ lack of enthusiasm. “You gonna cap that?”

“I’m not gonna tag along as your third wheel, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, not _you_ , you dipshit,” Thomas said with a great roll of the eyes. “You _and_ your boy.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, the last time me and _my boy_ hung out, he refused to speak to me,” Mats said grumpily.

“So you’re done.”

“He hasn’t texted me since school got out. So yeah. I think so.”

All of a sudden, a knot formed in Mats’ stomach. Here was Thomas, running off with his crush every time the sky turned blue whereas Mats’ crush wouldn’t even text him to ask him how his summer was going.

"Dude - ”

“Don’t _dude_ me,” interrupted Mats.

“Shut up. You ‘dude’ me all the time. Anyways, as I was saying, school’s only been out for two days, dude.”

Mats sighed. He took the couch pillow he’d been leaning against and hugged it to his chest. He knew it was a fixable problem, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit envious at how quickly Thomas’ relationship was moving compared to his. What if Benedikt wasn’t interested in him anymore, having now gotten to know him better? What if things really _were_ over for them?

Thomas slung his arm across Mats’ shoulders. “Okay. I know your last date wasn’t the greatest, but you gotta remember that he’d just singlehandedly fucked over the entire school. It had nothing to do with you, and if anything, _he’s_ the one who should be worried about you being pissed at _him_.”

“Since when have I cared that much about a high school football team?”

Thomas patted Mats’ shoulder. “Nice and supportive of your boy, aren’t ya?”

Mats shook his head, but smiled a tiny smile. Leave it to Thomas, the most annoying and ridiculous person he knew, to knock some sense back into him.

“Text him. Don’t mention the game, just tell him you wanna see him and ask what he’s doing tonight, but in the meantime, please turn the TV back on because despite almost having my very first boyfriend, my favorite form of entertainment is still the lives of those who are worse off than me. Sound good?”

It sounded good, and Mats and Thomas spent the next five minutes hooting and shaking with laughter over a man who’d been caught having sex with his brother’s girlfriend in the back of a truck next to a park in broad daylight. (Okay, it wasn’t _that_ funny, but for some reason everything always seems funnier when your best friend is laughing with you.)

\---

Thomas took the bus to the fair, where he and Manuel had agreed to meet at what in Thomas’ opinion was the greatest place on earth: the funnel cake stand.

It was still light out, but dusk was approaching, and Thomas was looking forward to spending the night with Manuel under the lights of the fair, licking powdered sugar off each other’s fingers and taking selfies on top of the ferris wheel…

Manuel was there before Thomas.

“Hey fatty,” said Thomas affectionately before turning to the guy in the stand and saying, “two funnel cakes with extra sugar, please.”

They paid, then sat down at one of the sticky picnic tables to eat. Thomas polished off his cake, and then looked at Manuel with puppy eyes until he finally pushed over his own unfinished cake to Thomas.

“Say ‘ahhh’,” Thomas said, ripping off a piece of the cake and tossing it at Manuel’s face. It hit his cheek, smearing it with white powder, and Thomas laughed. Manuel raised his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah? What if I told you that I’m _not_ gonna try and win you that giant lobster you want so badly?”

Thomas grimaced and shoved his hands into his lap. He’d wanted to win one of those giant animals ever since he was little, but he was crap at carnival games and Manuel happened to be quite skilled with his timing and hand-eye coordination after all those years of goalkeeping. So they’d agreed that Manuel would win Thomas the animal under one condition - it got to sleep over at Manuel’s every other weekend.

\---

After a lengthy discussion, Thomas and Manuel decided that it would be better to win the lobster once they’d done everything else they wanted to do at the fair so they wouldn’t have to haul it all over the place.

It was twilight by this point, so they thought it best to go and get their faces painted before it was too dark. Or, well, at least Thomas did. Manuel thought that it would be a better idea to do it _after_ it was already dark in case anyone saw them with their faces transformed into tigers and butterflies like a little kid’s would be. But the idea of Thomas walking around with whiskers and a black button nose sounded too adorable, so he gave in.

Thomas climbed up onto the stool and giggle when the cool paint brush touched his forehead. Instinctively, Manuel reached over and grabbed his hand. Thomas bit back another giggle and batted his eyelids at Manuel.

“I can’t believe,” Manuel was saying once both of their faces were coated in colorful paint and they were waiting in line for the ferris wheel, “that I thought it would be a good idea to rescue you off the cafeteria floor on Valentine’s day. I should’ve just left you there for the wolves.”

“Yeah, and then where would _you_ be, fatty?” Thomas smiled viciously, taking advantage of the fact that he now resembled a tiger.

“Higher up the social ladder. But it’s worth it for you.”

Thomas felt very lightheaded all of a sudden. It hadn’t taken him long to warm up to Manuel, but it wasn’t till tonight that he realized just how _special_ he was to Manuel. He felt needed, he felt wanted, and he felt loved. Of course, he felt all these with Mats too, but it was a different kind of love. It was more like - _desire_.

They’d been holding hands for such a long time that it was getting uncomfortable and sweaty, so Thomas let go and wiped his hand on his shorts.

Once they’d moved up the line enough, they made sure to climb into their own carriage and sit on the same side. Manuel lay his hand on Thomas’ knee.

The ferris wheel creaked into motion. The carriage swayed back and forth gently. Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, but his heart was beginning to do funny little gallops and he had a bad feeling he’d fall right out of the carriage and through the darkened sky if he weren’t watching, so he opened them again and grabbed onto the hem of Manuel’s shirt, scrunching it up in his fist.

“Can I tell you something?” Manuel said quietly.

“Of course.”

Hesitation.

“You’re the cutest little tiger I’ve ever seen,” he blurted out.

“And you don’t make such a bad peacock yourself,” Thomas said loudly, putting way too much emphasis on the ‘ck’ sound in peacock for his own liking.

“I love you.”

Thomas was holding onto Manuel’s t-shirt so tightly that he thought his fingers were going to snap in half. “Thanks,” he replied.

The next three seconds were so violently awkward that Thomas felt more at home than he ever had before.

“I love you,” Thomas finally said back, sounding a bit like Kermit the frog. “By the way, did you know that although most people presume lobsters to be red, that’s only because they’re cooked and there’s actually only a one in ten million chance that a lobster will be naturally red? Incidentally, blue lobsters are a genetic mutation and one in two million, but yellow lobsters which are also a genetic mutation are one in thirty million. How crazy is that? BUT what’s even crazier is that one in _one hundred_ million lobsters are albino -”

“Absolutely unbelievable,” Manuel effectively cut him off.

“I know a lot about the coloring of lobsters…” Thomas mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Manuel’s laughter was sensed more than it was heard. He pulled his phone out from his back pocket and slid open the camera, holding it out at arm’s length and snapping two pictures of the two of them at the top of the ferris wheel, one smiling version and one silly version. When he was finished, he dropped a light kiss onto the corner of Thomas’ lips. The colorful fairgrounds stretched out far below them, the distance only testifying for how close Thomas felt to Manuel in that moment.

\---

Manuel managed to win the giant lobster by pulling a rubber duck with a black dot on the bottom out of a dirty pool of water (the losing ducks had nothing on the bottom). Although it hadn’t taken much skill on his part, Thomas was impressed regardless, having been convinced by Mats that those games were rigged and that the goal was to get you to spend as much money as possible, trying over and over again in vain when _none_ of the ducks were actually winners.

They had to call Thomas’ dad to pick them up.

“Hi dad,” Thomas said breathlessly into his phone while Manuel watched expectantly. “Can we get a ride home from the fair?”

“Let’s think about this,” Mr. Müller responded in the voice he always used when he had his feet propped up and a baseball game on TV and a beer in his hand. Whenever he was in this mode, he was a big fan of thinking about things.

“I’ve thought about it already, and on account of Snapjaw, our best option would be to get a ride home.”

“Okay, but you’ll have to wait until the bases aren’t loaded.”

“Yes, see you soon, bye.”

Thomas hung up and smiled, patting one of Snapjaw’s fuzzy claws amicably. “You’re gonna be a _huge_ help in future endeavors, my friend.”

“Did your dad even ask who Snapjaw is?” Manuel wanted to know, hitching said lobster farther up his grip.

“He’s had a few beers,” Thomas said with a wave of the hand.

The three of them waited by the parking lot for their ride to come. When Mr. Müller pulled up, they opened the back and shoved Snapjaw into the trunk.

“There’s a lobster in the trunk, dad,” Thomas informed him.

“That’s nice,” Mr. Müller replied absently. He had the baseball game on full blast on the radio.

It was a fun night. Mr. Müller took them not home, but to a sports bar so he could finish watching the ballgame uninterrupted, and by the end of it all, the amount of alcohol consumed between all three of them was enough to prompt a call to Mrs. Müller to bring them home and for Manuel to stop caring that he was walking around in the guise of peacock.

\---

Thomas and Manuel stumbled upstairs to Thomas’ room, the footballer throwing Snapjaw onto the bed while Thomas crashed simultaneously.

“How are you feeling?” Manuel asked, his voice husky, heaving himself onto the bed after Thomas.

This was a side of Manuel that Thomas had yet to see, and he was a little nervous at the same time that he was turned on; the face paint didn’t help with the latter portion. It was smudged now since it was quite warm outside and they’d both been sweating.

He didn’t say anything. He simply looked at Manuel, watching as his eyes grew hungrier and brighter. The alcohol was serving as the push that the both of them needed to take things one step further.

No sooner had Thomas realized this, he was palming Manuel through his shorts. “Great,” he breathed.

Mouths met, shirts flew off and zippers came undone, and Thomas gave and received his first ever handjobs. Manuel rewarded him for a job well done by sucking a hickey onto one particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

When it was over, Manuel pulled Thomas into his chest. Thomas could feel Manuel’s heart pounding against his back, his shallow breath on his ear, until they both slowed to the point of being almost imperceivable. Thomas was so hyperaware of everything about his boyfriend that he almost didn’t notice anything at all.

\---

The next day, Thomas woke up in an untidy heap of arms, legs, and blanket. Snapjaw was on the floor, and it wasn’t until he caught sight of the lobster that it occurred to him that the warm, sleeping mass tangled around him was Manuel, his blond hair slightly tousled over a haphazardly thrown pillow. Thomas touched his lips to Manuel’s forehead and smiled - he could tell that the other boy wasn’t really asleep, that he was just faking and enjoying the attention.

Thomas felt good. He didn’t want to move in fear of spoiling the mood, but Mats had sent him a few texts last night that he hadn’t bothered to read and being the good friend he was, couldn’t stand to ignore any longer. Plus, it was beginning to get hot, and as no one had closed the skylight last night, the sun pouring in didn’t help the fact much. So he stretched and got his phone.

_From: Mats - I wish I’d come with you guys_

_From: Mats - You know you could actually spend some time with me you know, other than when we’re just at home watching tv and you’re killing time waiting for him_

_From: Mats - Should’ve expected this, but whatever_

Thomas helicoptered his lips. Leave it to Mats to spoil his happy mood.

_To: Mats - I asked you if you wanted to come and you didn’t want to_

“What’re ya doin’?” a groggy Manuel wanted to know several texts later. He situated himself so he could see better over Thomas’ shoulder.

“Fighting with Mats.”

“What’s he want?”

“He’s jealous that I’m in a happy relationship with you and he still doesn’t have the dick capacity to text Benni.”

“Well, Benni hasn’t exactly been a ray of sunshine lately.”

“I don’t understand why they both can’t just take out their own crusty attitudes on each other through rounds of angry sex,” Thomas said.

“I don’t think they’ve gotten to that stage yet,” Manuel said.

“That’s the _point_. UGH.”

Two things happened then: Thomas’ phone rang, and Thomas’ mom called up the stairs that she had just finished making pancakes and for the two of them to please come downstairs and eat them before Thomas’ dad ate them all.

“Let’s go eat,” Thomas said, telling himself that he’d deal with his best friend sometime in the near future.

“Okay, but lemme wash this crap off my face first.”

 

* * *

 

Once Thomas had left for the fair, Mats had gotten up and prepared himself a cheese quesadilla. While he waited for it to warm up, he gave his dog Sampson a long hug. Then he sat down at the table, stuffing the quesadilla into his mouth and entertaining himself with what appeared to be his dad’s Home Depot shopping list, except for that couldn’t have been it as it also contained ‘one blueberry bagel’.

“Wanna come with?”

His dad had appeared behind him and seemed rather excited that Mats had taken interest to his shopping list. Mats finished chewing.

“No, I don’t,” Mats said, “but where are you gonna get one blueberry bagel?”

He set the list back down on the table and looked at his dad.

“I’m going to the bakery and then to Home Depot.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You sure you don’t wanna come?”

Mats shrugged. He didn’t feel like doing much of anything right now, but doing something and allowing himself the distraction seemed like a better idea than doing nothing. So he went along.

They went to the bakery first, and since Mats had already eaten and the bakery was clean out of bagels for the day, both he and his dad got danishes instead. Mats gnawed his way through the pastry, not really tasting anything and eating it only so his dad wouldn’t think anything was wrong.

“Something bothering you?” Mr. Hummels asked as soon as they were back in the car.

“No,” Mats lied.

\---

He didn’t like to admit it for some reason, but Mats always loved going to Home Depot. He loved the smell of the place; it smelled like fresh wood and paint and nostalgia.

Today he wandered around, thinking of his childhood and debating on whether or not to text Thomas. It probably wasn’t a great idea, seeing as he was in the sort of mood to strangle Thomas right now. Keeping this in mind, he slid his phone out from his pocket and sent his best friend three texts in a row, each about two minutes after the other. It didn’t help him feel any better. In fact, he felt even worse when Thomas still hadn’t answered several minutes later, so he shut off his phone and forced himself to study the labels on some two-and-a-half inch galvanized nails. He also tried to force himself to believe that the reason his eyes were watering and his throat tightening was because of all the sawdust gathered inevitably in every nook and cranny of the place, but that was a bit harder.

While he’d been wiping his eyes dry on his shirt, he felt a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little. It was his dad.

“I’m done. Ready to go?”

Mats just nodded.

\---

The next morning didn’t improve things much. He knew he was fighting a losing battle as he texted Thomas, but everything still felt so unfair.

_From: Thomas - I asked you if you wanted to come and you didn’t want to_

_To: Thomas - Cause you were going on a date with Manuel_

_From: Thomas - You’re being annoying_

_From: Thomas - Why can’t you just be happy that I’m happy? That’s what friends are supposed to do, but clearly you can’t see anything past your own big fat head. Talk to me again when you’ve gotten over yourself_

Mats called Thomas in response to this, his phone shaking with anger against his ear, but there was no answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. If you're wondering, yes that was an actual episode of cops (season 21, episode 8 to be exact), and yes I was watching it while I wrote.
> 
> 2\. Here are some more lobster facts that Thomas didn't get a chance to tell you:  
> -lobsters are normally dark greenish/bluish brown (but Snapjaw was red)  
> -lobsters with spots on their shells are 1 in 30 million  
> -lobsters with one half that is a different color from their other half are 1 in 50 million, and many of these lobsters contain both male and female sex organs due to the fact that they are made up of cells from multiple zygotes (which are basically fertilized eggs that grow into babies, though they form differently depending on the type of organism)
> 
> 3\. The next chapter will contain Hömmels. Speaking of Hömmels, [this](http://neueresque.tumblr.com/post/146862476188) is probably the most inspirational thing to happen to my life since they fought at the derby.
> 
> That's all for now, please comment and tell me what you thought of it!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mats and Benedikt reunite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hömmels part of the epilogue!
> 
> P.S. I ALWAYS think of the yellow fish from Finding Nemo saying 'bubbles' whenever I say Hömmels, so just imagine that [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7IYR_rELyE) is me whenever I'm stupidly excited about Hömmels (as I am now! lol).

Mats and Thomas had been in exactly three fights with each other since the debut of their friendship.

Mats didn’t remember what had led up to the first once, but he did remember Thomas calling him ‘diarrhea-head’, and then Thomas’ mom taking him home from the pool.

The second one had occurred when they were a bit older, around 11 or 12, at one of their summer dive meets. Thomas believed that he’d had a pretty good chance of placing - but only if Mats, who was much better than him, were to ‘dive up’ into a higher age group. Mats had not wanted to dive up, and as a result, Thomas won fourth place, putting him just one place off a podium spot.

The third one occurred in the summer after their junior year of high school, when Thomas and Mats decided to go to the pool to hang out somewhere other than in front of the television and sort out their differences.

Mats had just gotten a bag of barbeque chips from the vending machine and was settling back into his deck chair when Thomas said, “okay, listen, I’m sorry for being insensitive the other day. I didn’t know that was how you felt because I thought I was hanging out with you a lot.”

Mats looked at Thomas and his skinny frame, which was stretched lazily across a lounger. “Well, you thought wrong.”

“Okay then,” Thomas huffed. “I was just trying to apologize to you, but carry on and keep playing pissy with me. I can’t really understand why you’re getting mad at me for not hanging out because whenever we do, you’re just like this. It’s a waste of time.”

Mats threw his hand out and let it fall back down with a thump.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yep, this is so much fun, so much fun, I’m so glad I gave up my afternoon to spend it with you while you’re throwing a hissy fit - ”

“Shut up.”

“Now I see,” Thomas laughed, “why your relationship with Benedikt is going so well - ”

“I said shut up. Not something I really wanna talk about, if you hadn’t realized.”

“But you have to talk about it - ”

“Nope, bye, I’m leaving,” Mats said indignantly, throwing his towel down and storming off. He dove into the pool, waded across it, emerged on the other side and disappeared.

Ten minutes later, he swam back across the pool.

“I forgot my stuff,” he explained in response to Thomas’ quizzical look.

“I would’ve brought it back for you,” said Thomas affably.

“Thanks.”

For a few seconds, Mats just stood there, dripping wet, staring at Thomas as if he’d just climbed out of a UFO. Mats had to squint heavily because he and Thomas never brought sunglasses anywhere they went. (It was almost part of the popularity code to wear Ray Bans, so Thomas and Mats felt morally obligated to pass up on that fashion choice and resort to squinting.)

“You’re right,” Mats decided, finally sitting down. “I want to talk about it. And I’m sorry for being a salty mofo about you going out with Manuel. Believe me, I’m happy for you. I just… you know. I don’t know, dude.”

“Yeah. I know. Listen. I want you to be happy for yourself too, and I’m gonna help you guys.”

“You don’t have to - ”

“Yes, I do, you guys are both my friends, and it’s so obvious how much you two wanna frick frack so it’s my job to make that happen.” Thomas smiled proudly.

Mats mulled this over, knowing very well that it was his own job to get his own shit together, but he wasn’t about to argue with one of his best friend’s insane ideas that always seemed to work out in the end. Thomas was the kind of person who was both quick to react and quick to forgive, so they could never stay mad at each other for long.

“Okay, so, what’s your dream date? Dream big,” Thomas said.

“I really wanted to take him to the animal shelter.”

“That’s all?”

“It’s an important place to me,” Mats said, starting once more on the bag of chips he’d left unfinished and eternally grateful that he had the best best friend in the world.

“Well, it’s definitely not your classic candlelit, lakeside dinner, but I think we could make it work,” Thomas said as if he and his own romantic interest had not literally just won a giant stuffed lobster by playing with rubber ducks.

\---

“Who’s a good boy? _Who’s_ a good boy? Oh, yes, you’re _so_ good, such a _good_ doggy, oh my goodness, yes - ”

“Be quiet,” Mats snapped.

Mats was nervous, and understandably so, but he couldn’t understand why he was _this_ nervous. He’d been steadily growing more comfortable around Benedikt.

“It’s cause you haven’t seen him in a few weeks,” Thomas, who was leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom and giving Sampson the mutt some love, said wisely. “So basically you’re right back where you started.”

“Thank you. That’s very helpful,” Mats, who was really starting to regret begging Thomas to come over and help him get ready, said huffily.

“Hey, but that can be a good thing. And I wouldn’t brush your hair that much. You want it to look nice, but not as if you actually brushed it.”

Mats immediately stop running his mom’s brush through his hair. He opened his mouth to respond to Thomas, but upon realizing how weird and pouty his lips looked when he talked, forgot what he had to say.

“By the way,” Thomas added, “a little birdie tells that Benedikt isn’t that comfortable around dogs.”

Mats dropped the hairbrush into the sink. “You’re telling me this _now_?!”

“It seemed like the right thing to do,” Thomas said, totally oblivious.

“Oh god. He’s gonna hate it then.” Mats dragged his hands over his face. “Why does everything always happen to _me_?”

“Well, I can’t really argue with you on that one. I mean, you’re the kid that barfed at school.”

Mats picked up the hairbrush again and threw it at Thomas. He regretted it immediately after he threw it, not only because Sampson slouched away in obvious disapproval, but because he recalled that he probably wouldn’t be seeing Benedikt at all had Thomas not arranged, via Manuel, for them to meet. Plus, it was true that Thomas had not made fun of him about the barfing incident at the time like everyone else had; instead, he’d bought a water bottle for Mats at lunch and only jumped in on the barf boy bandwagon once Mats was no longer feeling the part.

Thomas had done so much for Mats in all their years of being friends, and Mats hadn’t done anything except ruin Thomas’ only chance of placing at a dive meet.

“Sorry about that, dude,” Mats said, referring to the hairbrush incident. Then he sucked in an awkward breath. He and Thomas rarely got sappy with each other, but it had to be done. “Thanks for, you know. Helping me get my life together all the time. You’re a really, really good friend and I’m really lucky to have you. And so is Manuel. I wish I could help you back, but you’re so much better at life than I am - ”

“Oh shit, I’m gonna cry!” Thomas leapt forward and threw his arms dramatically around Mats, who started to rub his back, cringing at his painfully-fake wails.

“I really meant it,” Mats said.

“I know.” Thomas backed up and got serious all of a sudden, his hands still on his friend’s shoulders. “And don’t think you haven’t helped me. It might not seem like it, but just being my friend is a lot. I wouldn’t be half the person I am if I didn’t know you’d be right there with me. Now please, _please_ , get your shit together with Benedikt tonight because Manu and I can’t be your mom and dad forever and keep setting up playdates for you two because you’re both pussies.”

“I’m gonna miss you, dude…” said Mats.

“Excuse me?” Thomas frowned and began to pat Mats’ head, which had just fallen onto his shoulder. “You’ll _miss_ me? Where the hell do you plan on taking him?”

“Nowhere, but it’s kinda hard not to miss you cause it’s so obvious whenever you’re there.”

Thomas couldn’t think of a counter argument, recalling that one of the only reasons Manu took notice to him was because he’d been splayed across the cafeteria floor covered in food.

“Oh, and nice hickey, by the way.”

“Thanks. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, you’ll get one too,” Thomas smirked. “You wanna practice with me before you go?”

“NO.”

\---

Mats walked to the shelter. It wasn’t too far from his house, but he still felt sweaty and gross by the time he got there.

He waited by the front desk in the air conditioning, chatting with the people he usually worked with and explaining to them that he was actually waiting for his date, whom he was going to show around.

“Um,” he had said when one of the other shelter volunteers asked if perhaps Benedikt would become a regular. He thought that it would make him sound like a horrible date if he mentioned that Benedikt did not actually care for dogs.

At that moment, Benedikt walked in, looking as though he weren’t quite sure what to do with himself and then appearing relieved when he saw Mats.

“Hey you,” the footballer said, half lifting his arms and then pulling them back to his side, apparently under the impression that he should ease back into things after having not talked to his potential love interest for several weeks. Instead, he held out his hand.

Mats took it, squeezed, then let go, grinning. “Hey.”

He introduced Benedikt to his shelter friends and then led him behind the front desk and behind a door to a hallway where all the cats lived, hoping that this wasn’t as terrible an idea as he thought it was.

Benedikt stared in awe at all the kennels lining the walls. He’d never seen so many cats in one place in his life. He had so many questions he wanted to ask Mats, but settled on what in hindsight was the dumbest one. “How did they all _get_ here?”

Mats shrugged sadly. “People don’t want them. Stray cats have kittens. We can’t save all of them because so many of them are feral - ” he took note of the confusion on Benedikt’s face. “Feral. Born on the streets. Humans can’t handle them because they’re too scared, even aggressive sometimes. And it’s bad not just for them, but for the environment too, cause they act as invasive species…”

Mats talked about cats while Benedikt listened and watched the little creatures as they roamed around their kennels, looking not miserable but not exactly happy either.

“The worst thing about it is we can’t even take all the ones that are used to humans. This is a no kill shelter, but a lot of the times they just end up in shelters where they are killed anyway… It’s really, really sad. The best we can do is get as many people as possible to adopt, but people don’t want pets like these. They want to get perfect pets from breeders, not ones that have been through hell and back. I mean yeah, some of them do have issues, but most of them are actually so much sweeter and have way more personality than pets that are bred to look perfect.”

Mats opened one of the kennels then and lifted out a rather bored looking ginger cat named Shirley. He stroked her head and halfway down her back, and Benedikt did the same, surprised at how rough her fur felt.

Benedikt thought he liked Herb a little more. Shirley’s neighbor was a pure gray cat who purred very loudly and licked his and Mats’ fingers.

“So, you wanna go see the dogs now? Cats are independent, but the dogs need to be let out a lot and have walks, socialize…” Mats said, latching Herb’s kennel back up after they’d finished petting him. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he added rather quickly.

“No, it’s fine. I want to.” Benedikt smiled. He thought it was cute how passionate Mats was about the animals and didn’t want to disappoint him.

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

So they went into a second hallway. It was much noisier than the first; dogs were scrabbling about, lapping noisily at their water bowls, some of them barking.

Benedikt moved very close to Mats.

“You good?”

“Yep,” Benedikt said, but he must’ve looked a bit pale because Mats continued staring at him. “Seriously, I’m fine. It’s just - okay, this is gonna sound pathetic, but I’m kinda scared of dogs.”

“We can go if you want,” Mats said, looking neither surprised nor disappointed.

“Well…”

Benedikt hadn’t felt this lame since he’d let in that goal in the playoffs. He knew it wasn’t his fault. His brain was telling him that he was safe and had nothing to fear; all the dogs were in their kennels, and surely Mats would only let one out if he knew it was friendly. But his body had developed a rather unfortunate fight-and-flight response to dogs, and he couldn’t help the way his heart always sped up and how he always felt a strong urge to run away. It was so embarrassing.

“Here, how about I leash one up and we go for a walk?”

“Okay,” Benedikt agreed. One dog definitely seemed a lot less intimidating than twenty.

\---

Ten minutes later, Benedikt had finished explaining to Mats how he’d been bitten when he was a little kid, and how he was never able to get over it since his family never owned any pets.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said Mats, who was holding the leash of a golden retriever named Juni.

“I just wish we’d had a pet. But I guess the bite kinda set my parents off from getting one. I mean, it wasn’t so bad, I didn’t go to the hospital or anything, but it probably looked a lot worse than it was since I was so little and screamed fucking bloody murder before it even touched me.”

Mats laughed, and it lightened the mood a little bit. The color had returned to Benedikt’s cheeks now, and they were probably even a little pinker than they should’ve been…

“Have you ever counted your freckles?” he asked suddenly, stopping at the same time to let Juni sniff some bushes and pee.

“I tried to once. But I kept getting lost, so I had to take a Sharpie and mark off all the ones I’d already counted and I ended up looking like such a buffoon that I just stopped after twenty-six.”

“Aw, shame.”

“Yeah, next time I’ll let you do it,” Benedikt said, and he bit down on his lip as soon as he’d spoken.

Mats’ stomach did a flip. He quickly imagined himself armed with a marker and Benedikt laughing and trying to dodge him, soon finding a marker of his own and turning it into an all out marker battle until Mats could finally grab ahold of the other boy’s wrist, steady it and write ‘I love you’...

Both boys were quiet for a while. Mats wondered what Benedikt was thinking (he appeared to be in deep thought, his eyebrows pulled slightly together and his eyes pointed towards the ground), why he hadn’t texted for so long, why his fingers were now in his pockets, and why he had a bracelet identical to the one he’d bought for Mats back in February -

Oh.

“Do you wanna walk her for a bit?” Mats suggested, trying to ignore the part of him that was saying he should’ve worn his own bracelet today instead of leaving it in the drawer next to his bed.

He held out the leash and Benedikt took it, their hands brushing in the process. Mats couldn’t help it; he locked pinkies with Benedikt, and they played a little bit of finger-footsie before Benedikt finally took control, the both of them still smiling uncontrollably as Juni trotted over to her new master.

They could hear the stream now, and soon they were walking along it. Juni kept on pawing the water and nipping at it, then jumping back and growling.

“Let’s stop and let her play for a bit,” said Mats. He kneeled down and undid Juni’s leash, and the dog bolted immediately into the water, splashing Mats before he could stand up again. “Why is it always _me_?” he said, feeling stupid as he blinked water rapidly out of his eyes.

Benedikt laughed, then pulled Mats up by the hand.

 _Wow_ , was the first thing Mats thought once they were face to face. Benedikt was so freckly, much more than in winter. Had it really been that long since they’d last seen each other, or had he just never noticed? And his eyes - not quite green, but more exciting than Mats’ plain old brown ones. Laughter lingered in both Benedikt’s eyes and his grin. He looked nearly as happy as Mats felt.

Before he knew it, his hands had circled Benedikt’s hips and were pulling him in closer, closer still, and Benedikt’s hands were somewhere on his arms -

“Woof!”

“Juniiii!” Mats groaned in frustration. The dog had dropped a nasty old tennis ball at their feet and was wagging her tail, panting up at them proudly. He stared at the tennis ball, then at the bemused Benedikt, then he shrugged, picked it up between the very tips of his fingers, and chucked it back into the water. Juni went zooming after it.

“I think we should keep a better eye on her,” said Benedikt.

“Right,” said Mats distractedly.

They followed Juni to where she was now snapping at minnows in the stream. Mats kicked off his flip flops and sat down on a rock at the edge of the water, Benedikt following suit, their legs bumping together as they got situated.

Mats dragged his fingertips across the surface of the water to rinse off the grime from the tennis ball. Ever since Juni’s interruption, an awkwardness had emerged. Not a bad one. Just the kind where something felt incomplete, or unsaid.

Benedikt cupped some water in his hand, then let it fall between his fingers. “So how’s your summer going?”

“Pretty good. Just been chilling and hanging out with Thomas a lot. Yours?”

Benedikt scooped up another handful of water, but this time Mats placed his hand underneath Benedikt’s and tried to catch what fell.

“It’s been good too. But I’ve missed you,” Benedikt said casually.

_Why didn’t you call me then, or answer any of the texts I sent you?_

“Are you sure?” he said, and then, mentally slapping himself for how whiny he sounded, “but you didn’t call me.”

“I know.”

Mats waited to see if Benedikt would say anything else. He didn’t want to push him. But after several seconds that felt more like minutes, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Benni.”

“I know I didn’t.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you, I just wanna know why. I want you to be okay.” _I want you to be okay with me._

“I’m fine,” Benedikt said mildly, and he started making a little whirlpool in the water with his finger, watching it intently. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t. I promise. Stop beating around the bush, you may be fine now, but you weren’t before and I know it. You looked like you wanted to disappear that night we went out to eat after the playoffs, and then you _did_ disappear.”

“Okay. Yeah, I did. I just needed some time for myself. That’s all, really.”

“You could’ve told me and I would’ve left you alone,” Mats said. _Instead of worrying that you never wanted to talk to me or see me again._ “I’m listening,” he added as an afterthought, just in case.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I just really needed the time, away from my phone and away from everyone, I didn’t put much thought into it but I’m glad I took it cause I finally could think for myself. I’m tired of doing everything for my reputation, and I don’t wanna do it anymore next year. It’s my last year of high school, and I don’t want it to suck. I want to spend it with you, and with Thomas and Manu and with people who actually like me. I don’t wanna play football anymore, either. I’m not good enough for college, so I wanna use this last year to try something different instead of wasting it on something I’ve done my whole life and don’t even like that much anymore. And Mats…”

Mats started to pay a little more attention, hanging on to Benedikt’s every word.

“I really, really like you.”

Mats held his breath. Benedikt started to fumble with his words in a way that Mats had never seen before, the kind of fumble that happens when you’re so honest you’re surprised by your own honesty, when you’re not even sure that the voice you’re hearing anymore is really yours.

“You’re the kind of person who’s so nice, and not because they’re trying to be and think they should be, but because you don’t know anything else. That’s just who you are.”

_I’m nice? That’s all?_

“I’ve - I don’t think I’ve ever been attracted to someone as much as I am to you.”

Mats’ heart started to thump happily. He opened his mouth and out came an avalanche of words which were drowned out by the pounding of blood in his own ears. “I’m attracted to you, too. I mean, at first it was because I just thought you were really cute, with your floppy hair that sticks up when you use gel and your smile and the way your butt looks in your j - I mean, but I think everyone has a choice, and you chose to give me a chance, to give _yourself_ a second chance, and I think that’s even harder than just blindly being nice. It’s a beautiful thing when an asshole admits he’s an asshole and that it’s not okay, not just something like ‘oh I’m an asshole, deal with it losers’, cause that actually means you’re _not_ as much of an asshole. Not that you were an asshole. Well - ”

Benedikt held up his hand, laughing and shaking his head. “Okay, I get it. You know, you should know that I always thought you were hot. A lot of people think you’re hot.”

“Really? Who?” Mats asked immediately. He felt his ears redden at how eager he sounded. “But I’m not - ”

“People I used to hang out with a lot. Girls. It doesn’t matter though, does it?”

“Nope. I’m not hot though,” Mats said.

“Yeah you are. I think you are. You should look in a mirror sometime.”

Mats had a brief flashback to around two hours ago, when he’d spent approximately 45 minutes with a hairbrush in front of a mirror. “Okay, I will when I get home.”

But he didn’t get a chance to feel embarrassed when he realized that that probably hadn’t been quite the response Benedikt was expecting, because Juni chose that moment to remind the boys that she was still there, bounding out of the stream and straight for Benedikt.

“Juni! No - ”

Mats held out his arm, trying to shield Benedikt from the wet, snuffling dog, but she wiggled right past him and onto Benedikt’s chest, where she started slobbering all over his face, her tail whipping back and forth and spraying water everywhere.

“Juni…”

“I don’t mind,” Benedikt managed to say.

“Well, looks like someone has taken a liking to you.”

Benedikt scrunched up his face in apparent agreement.

\---

By the time they’d returned Juni to the shelter, Benedikt’s front was caked in mud. Regardless, he’d had Mats get him a folder with Juni’s adoption information.

“And if your parents still say no, maybe you could talk to them about adopting a cat,” Mats suggested.

“Meh,” said Benedikt. He wanted Juni.

They were walking outside now. Benedikt was following Mats, but he got the feeling that Mats didn’t have a destination in mind either and, in turn, was following Benedikt.

“So where do you wanna go?” Mats asked.

Benedikt pondered. _Should I? Or will I sound too desperate?_ “Well, unless there’s somewhere you had in mind, we could head over to my place? I know it’s early, but my mom’s probably made some dinner and then we could just hang out.”

He saw the excitement flit across Mats’ expression, only to be replaced by panic.

“Your mom?” Mats repeated dumbly.

“My family will probably be home. Don’t worry about it though, they’re nice. What do you say? We don’t have to, but…”

“No, that’s a good idea. Let’s go.”

So they walked back to where Benedikt’s car was parked and climbed in.

Benedikt waited for Mats to click his seatbelt in before he backed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah I had to split it into two parts because it was getting too long, TBC in the next chapter, which will probably be the last ~~because this thing was technically supposed to be over at chapter 10, but I got carried away~~.
> 
> I hope you liked it! Leave a comment, take a hug :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mats and Benni spend some time together at Benni's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know this is ridiculously late...my excuse is that I had to decide which direction I wanted to take this story in and how I wanted to end it, and that involved rewriting some things. Then when I was finally ready to post Ao3 starting acting up :( The good news is, everything (hopefully) seems to be back on track and in working order and the next chapter is nearly finished so you won't have to wait as long for that one!
> 
> P.S. I'm trying reeeallly hard to wrap things up but I'm just so attached to this fic! It's hard to predict what the final number of chapters will be (hence the 3+ part "epilogue") so just bear with me here :)

Mats wasn’t really sure what to expect from Benedikt’s house. He knew that Benedikt lived up on the north end of town, so he was fairly surprised to step into a house that wasn’t much different from his own, albeit with less dog hair on the furniture.

He met Benedikt’s mom and dad, who were both very nice, and his younger sister who was going to start high school next year. While Mats talked to them, Benedikt disappeared upstairs and came back with a clean shirt.

They ate dinner out on the back porch (Mrs. Höwedes had prepared pasta while Mats and Benedikt were put to work slicing tomatoes and mozzarella for a caprese salad). A few minutes in, Benedikt brought up the possibility of adopting Juni.

“Oh honey,” Mrs. Höwedes said, looking sympathetically at her son.

“Mom, stop…” Benedikt groaned in embarrassment, shooting Mats a meaningful look at the same time. Mats took the hint and tried to explain to Benedikt’s parents, without sounding like a walking guilt trip, how sweet Juni was and how she needed a home.

Mrs. Höwedes said “we’ll see” and took the papers. Benedikt shot Mats a grin and nudged him beneath the table.

It was all going well, and both Benedikt’s parents and his sister seemed to adore Mats, asking him a million questions and treating him as if he were the most fascinating thing that had ever set foot in their house. The only indication that Benedikt’s family wasn’t perfect came when Benedikt’s college-aged brother came strolling in halfway through the meal, and Mr. Höwedes left the table to go talk to him sternly about something, prompting everyone else to disperse gradually.

“Let’s go to the basement,” Benedikt suggested, and he cupped his hand over Mats’ elbow for a second as he guided him in the right direction. “I don’t wanna be here when it gets ugly… My brother didn’t do so well in his classes, but the thing is he didn’t even try, he seems to think that mom and dad are paying tens of thousands in tuition just for him to skip class and party…”

Mats didn’t know how he was supposed to react, so he just said, “oh, that sucks.” Apparently it was the right thing to say because Benedikt seemed unbothered and launched into an explanation about his own college plans.

“Any idea what you wanna do?” he asked when he was done.

“Um,” Mats said, partially because he hadn’t put much thought into his future aside from deciding that he didn’t want to follow in his dad’s footsteps and spend the rest of his life inside a high school classroom, and partially because he’d just become distracted by the Höwedes’ basement.

It was finished, unlike Mats’ own basement which was very much unfinished and mainly served as a storage area for dust, junk, and half-empty paint cans. Down here it was carpeted, well lit, and equipped with a bar and a fridge, a pool table, a massive corner sectional leather couch, and a television. Still, it gave off a musky sort of vibe to Mats, as if no one really came down here, and he suddenly understood what Benedikt wanted. This hadn’t been about Mats meeting his family, but about Mats himself.

To be alone with him.

Really alone. Not just alone in a crowd, but alone, in a private and personal place. Benedikt’s home.

They hadn’t even sat down yet, and it already felt so intimate.

“Drink?”

Benedikt had opened the fridge and was holding up two beers.

“I - I don’t really like the taste of alcohol,” Mats said awkwardly. It was true. He didn’t drink simply because he didn’t like it.

“Coke then?”

Mats nodded. “Sure.”

The footballer (or ex-footballer) put the beers back and pulled out two sodas, handing one to Mats.

“Thanks,” Mats said. He sat down at the bar and opened the can; the sound seemed exceedingly loud. He sipped and watched Benedikt do the same.

Benedikt Höwedes. It had a nice ring to it, Mats thought. Three syllables each. Be-ne-dikt Hö-we-des. A nice, even rhythm.

Benedikt smiled with his lips still on the can. “You’re staring at me, Mats.”

Mats did some quick thinking. “I was thinking about your name.”

“Benni?”

“No, your full name.”

Benedikt closed his eyes and smiled some more. Then he set his Coke back on the bar and turned so he was facing Mats directly. His knees were touching Mats’ chair. He leaned forward.

 _I don’t wanna make out sitting on a barstool,_ was Mats’ immediate reaction. He jumped off the chair, hitting his soda with his elbow in the practice, but thankfully it only slid and didn’t tip over.

“What’s wrong?” Benedikt asked, surprised.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before and I don’t know how,” Mats replied, feeling shame creep into his voice. His lips were trembling so he sucked them in, not wanting to appear weak in front of Benedikt.

“Oh - I’m not - I wasn’t - ” Benedikt blushed furiously past his freckles. “Okay, I was. I didn’t know you wouldn’t be comfortable with it. I thought…”

He looked so distressed that Mats couldn’t bear to watch it anymore. Mats turned around and hid his face in his arm. _He probably thought that I wasn’t so lame._ Why couldn’t he have just let it happen? Everyone needs their first kiss at some point, and he’d probably get no better chance than with Benedikt.

The next thing he knew, a pair of arms was wrapped around his waist and a chin had dropped onto his shoulder. He turned around and fell into the hug naturally, and it made up for the hug that hadn’t happened earlier that afternoon and all the time they hadn’t even seen each other. When they broke away, Mats felt like a part of him was missing. He felt colder and desperately wanted Benedikt close to him again.

“I can teach you how if you want,” Benedikt said, rather uncertainly.

Mats perked up a bit. “How?”

“Well… you can practice on my hand? And I’ll give you feedback.”

It sounded crazy but strangely appealing. Benedikt lifted his arm, showing Mats the back of his hand and grinning in a way that suggested he still wasn’t sure Mats thought it was the best idea.

“Okay,” Mats said quickly before he could change his mind. Still feeling foolish, he took Benedikt’s hand, brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. The skin there was surprisingly soft.

It was more like a peck than a real kiss, but when Benedikt nodded approvingly, he felt more confident. So the next time, he opened his mouth more and even flicked his tongue out, but that caused Benedikt to yank his hand back and giggle.

“Okay, that tickles too much. Practice on my cheek now.”

He had Benedikt pressed up against the wall now, their bare feet still on the carpet. He wondered if they should go sit down on the couch, but decided against it; he wanted to get the full sensation of his first kiss.

“I think that’s enough practice,” Benedikt said after Mats had barely touched his cheek.

And then before Mats could protest, they were kissing.

\---

Mats’ lips felt so good.

The kiss tasted a bit like Coke, and Mats was sloppy and accidentally bit a few times, but Benedikt didn’t mind. He held Mats’ head in place, hoping it would help him feel more secure, but there was nothing he could do about Mats’ roaming hands, which hadn’t yet seemed to have figured out where they wanted to be. Those hands were everywhere all at once, in his hair, on his chest, on his stomach, and Benedikt couldn’t deny that he loved it.

Once he felt confident that Mats was comfortable, he closed his eyes and let Mats take control.

He moaned when Mats’ hands settled on his biceps and squeezed.

It was the best kiss Benedikt had ever had. It was so effortless; he didn’t have to crane his neck down like he always used to do when kissing people who were much shorter than him, he didn’t have to do all the work. The best part about it, though, was how Mats seemed to have no idea what he was doing but did it all anyway. Benedikt could no longer feel the ground beneath his feet.

They stopped kissing slowly, prolonging the contact as long as they could. Mats rested his forehead against Benedikt’s. Benedikt tried not to breathe too hard, but it was difficult not to. His entire body was awake and alert and needed the oxygen.

When he finally pulled back, Mats’ eyes were closed, and he was smiling beautifully, so easily. Benedikt couldn’t understand how he could be so oblivious to his own beauty when he lived with it and walked around with it every day.

“Thank you,” Mats said.

Benedikt wanted to respond, but his mouth was still pulsing and he couldn’t figure out how to work it.

Mats wiped his mouth off with his hand and opened his eyes. They stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to do next but not wanting the buzz from the kiss to leave.

“Well… shall we have a seat?” Mats suggested, gesturing ungracefully towards the couch.

Benedikt agreed, then sat down on the floor next to the couch. He began to smooth himself out, straightening his shirt and re-fluffing his hair, which had both become ruffled. Mats sat down next to him and began smoothing and straightening him, too, until he accidentally brushed the bare skin of Benedikt’s hip and yanked himself away apologetically.

Benedikt grabbed Mats’ hand and put it back there.

“We just made out,” he explained. “It’s okay. You can touch me. That’s what people tend to do when they’re interested in each other.”

“Ah, sorry.”

“Don’t. You were really good.”

Mats was loving the sound of Benedikt’s voice. It was slightly hoarse, as if the kiss had worn it out, each word having to be formed so carefully. But apparently Benedikt was having similar thoughts, because he was waiting for Mats to talk. So Mats talked about the first thing that came to mind.

“I, uh, I used to have social interaction lessons, you see, cause it never really came naturally for me like it does for most people, so I saw a special therapist once a week and she taught me how to keep my hands to myself and that walking up to other kids and reciting the Miranda warning isn’t exactly endearing… That’s why I started loving animals so much, cause my parents thought that getting a dog would help me feel less lonely while I learned how to not be such a weirdo.”

He felt his voice catching at the end; he wasn’t sure why he was spilling his heart out of the blue to the boy he’d just kissed, but it felt right. When Benedikt laid down on his side, Mats laid down too facing him and kept going. Benedikt pressed his hand on top of the one Mats had just put back on Benedikt’s hip.

“And it did help me, but not exactly in the way it was supposed to. We were walking Sampson in the park, and then this kid who turns out to be Thomas comes running up and asks if he can pet my dog. I say yes, and then I recite Thomas his Miranda rights, and he thinks it’s the coolest thing ever and then we’re running around the playground pretending to be firefighters and cops and arresting people.”

“Thomas is a good friend,” Benedikt said softly.

Mats looked into Benedikt’s eyes.

He’d long considered the possibilities of what might’ve happened had he and Thomas not become friends. Would Thomas be popular, and would Mats have spent the past three years sitting on the staircase with not one person to share it with? Mats used to think that it was he who had influenced Thomas into abnormality and that deep down, Thomas was really quite uniquely lovable.

He’d rejected this theory, however, when he realized it was irrelevant. Thomas was indeed his friend and together, they were both unabashedly unpopular. It hadn’t happened any other way.

“I’m so happy,” Mats stated, just because he was.

“I’m glad you are, because I am too.”

Benedikt didn’t blink, and Mats couldn’t tear his eyes away. He didn’t even flinch when Benedikt reached up with his free hand, the one that wasn’t currently holding Mats to his skin, and brushed Mats’ cheek.

“I just feel so lucky. This is exactly what I’d always wanted,” Benedikt said in a voice barely above a whisper. He scooted forward, and then his lips twitched and parted.

_He means me._

“To be with someone like you.”

 _He’s gonna kiss me again,_ Mats thought wildly. That must mean that the first time was good enough to crave more. He braced himself, and then the electricity from earlier fired up in his body once again when their lips met -

Mats hiccuped.

“Oh god,” he moaned after Benedikt jumped back in surprise. “I’m sorry…”

Benedikt was giggling. “It’s okay. Can’t stay that’s ever happened to me before, though.”

“I’m just - _hicc_ \- full of new experiences,” Mats said dismally.

Benedikt sat up. “Must be the Coke. Try holding your breath,” he said reasonably.

Mats hauled himself back to a seated position and took in a great breath. It seemed to be working until, a few seconds later, his shoulders lurched forward with another hiccup. And when he tried to join Benedikt in laughter, he hiccuped again.

“I think I’ll go get some water,” he said.

They stood up and went into the kitchen, Mats hiccuping all the while. It was getting both embarrassing and excessively uncomfortable. Benedikt showed Mats where the glasses were and filled it up with water for him, then rubbed his back while he drank slowly, prepared to tear the glass away at any moment were he to feel another hiccup coming on. Fortunately, he managed to finish the whole thing without spilling water down his front, and by the time he was done, the hiccups were beginning to slow.

“Finished?” Benedikt asked.

Mats nodded. Benedikt took the glass and put it in the dishwasher.

“I think I’m good now,” Mats announced.

Benedikt smiled. “Good. Wanna go to my room?”

“Sure.”

Mats followed Benedikt upstairs and into his bedroom. The first thing he was drawn to when he walked in was Benedikt’s desk; it was covered in sketch paper and pencils. Although he had remembered that Benedikt liked to draw, he hadn’t given much thought to it.

He wandered over to the desk without another word and began to carefully push the drawings around to get a look at each one of them. A little more than half of them were outfits, but Benedikt had drawn other stuff too, among them a rose that seemed to be bleeding out its red color, a bird that Mats recognized but couldn’t identify, and the portrait of a boy.

“Do you like them?”

“Yeah,” Mats said, still staring at the portrait. He thought that it looked a bit like himself, only a more perfect version of him, which he couldn’t quite understand because how could something that wasn’t Mats look more like Mats than Mats himself did? “This is beautiful, Benni,” he said, pointing to the portrait.

“It’s you.”

“I know.”

Mats ran his finger over the pencil markings. When he realized the pad of his finger was picking up the graphite, he stopped.

“I - I made one of both of us too,” Benedikt said. “It’s on the computer though.”

“Show it to me.”

Benedikt brought over a laptop which had been sitting on his bed, shoved aside some drawings, then set it down. He opened an app, clicked around a bit, and produced a simple but sincere cartoon of two boys standing side by side at the beach.

“I animated it too. It’s not very good, cause I’m just learning.”

Mats placed his hand next to Benedikt’s and clicked on the image. He watched as the boys’ mouths turned into smiles, their eyes into happy slits, and a great wave rose jerkily in the background. After several choppy pictures, the boys disappeared behind the wave and several red hearts floated up in their place.

“I don’t even know. It’s stupid,” Benedikt said quickly.

Mats didn’t care that Benedikt thought it was no good. In that moment, nothing on earth seemed better than that little animation. “Did we die?” he asked.

“No! We just - well, I actually don’t know. It’s open to interpretation, I guess.” Benedikt shrugged modestly. “I was thinking about turning our faces to looks of amused horror at the last second, but this way seemed a bit more illusive. Plus, ‘amused horror’ is a little difficult to capture for a beginner…”

Mats played the animation again, and then a third time.

“I wanted to make us hug, but I didn’t know how.”

“How bout I just hug you now then?” Mats said, doing just that, forgetting all his shyness altogether. With Benedikt so close to him, his heart felt so big in his chest that it was hard to feel anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're familiar with that [post](http://neueresque.tumblr.com/post/145610262708/littlemozart-delilah229-um-is-that-the-same) on tumblr pointing out Hömmels' matching bracelets at Euros, then I hope you got my allusion ~~and I'd also like to claim partial responsibility for predicting/influencing the future since I wrote the part where Benni bought Mats the bracelet months before Euros~~ ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys begin their senior year of high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG sorry about the wait. I suck. But at least it's here now! Theoretically, there shall be one more chapter after this.
> 
> So, if anyone's still around, ily and I hope you like it <3

***some more months later***

It was only the first week back at school, and Manuel was already daydreaming, staring out the window with his chin in his hand and wishing for something exciting to happen. Maybe that storm cloud hovering over there would get a torrential downpour going?

He’d known that Senioritis was on its way, but he hadn’t expected it to hit this early or this hard. It didn’t help that the teacher had turned off the lights to show a PowerPoint and he was practically falling asleep.

Less than a week ago, he’d been at the beach with Benni, Thomas, and Mats. (They’d only gone for the day - Benni’s dad wouldn’t let him take the car any longer than that. Plus, they wanted to save something for the traditional beach week that always followed high school graduation.)

It had been fun, but not problem-free, as he’d discovered that things always were when Thomas was involved. Benni had been sunburned on the face terribly, and even the most expensive airbrush option on his senior portrait for the yearbook could only do so much. Thomas had stepped on a dead jellyfish and freaked out. And Mats had laughed a little too hard about it, earning himself a hard punch in the arm from Manuel.

Other than that, things were good. When Benni fell asleep briefly, Manuel and Mats tried to see how many Oreos they could stack on his stomach until they fell over, making for some dodgy entertainment and quality Instagram photos. Their record was 16, and they probably could’ve gone even further had Thomas not insisted that Manuel come into the water and body surf with him (Thomas’ version of body surfing, it turned out, was a bit different, and it involved turning Manuel into a human boogie board), leaving Mats alone with Benni in the sand.

The most memorable part of the whole day, however, was when they were walking along the boardwalk looking for somewhere to eat lunch and came across a sketchy tattoo parlor. Thomas dragged them all inside, insisting that he’d always wanted “a little danger” in his life and that poking around a tattoo parlor in broad daylight was the perfect opportunity to experience it. Manuel was hungry, so he just hoped that this would be fast.

They were greeted by a man who had more piercings than he had teeth. “How’re y’all boys doing?”

“Good,” Thomas answered for all of them. Manuel would’ve backed him up, but he was too preoccupied trying to hold back snorts of laughter at the look of horror on Benni’s face.

“Escaped from mom and dad, huh? Now, which one of y’all wants your nose pierced?”

Manuel cleared his throat. “Oh well, actually, we were just - ”

“I do,” said Thomas.

“Dude,” said Mats. He turned to the man. “He doesn’t really.”

“Sure he does. Come on back, buddy.”

The man led Thomas to the back, but not before Thomas winked back at his friends.

“He’s clueless,” Mats said after a while. “CLUELESS. I literally can’t believe this. Like, he doesn’t know _anything_. I bet he couldn’t even tell you his own last name.”

“Well. Should we follow him?” Benni asked, sounding as if he’d rather be sunburned a million times than poked with one needle.

“Yeah, let’s go,” said Manuel.

The three of them filed into a small room behind Thomas and the man who had since introduced himself as Steve. Benni lasted about two minutes until Steve put on gloves and got out all the things he’d be using, including a needle, and explaining how the process would go.

“I’ll take him,” Manuel said hurriedly, and he had guided a very woozy Benni back into the hallway before Mats could even open his mouth to argue that he should be taking care of his _own_ boy.

Boyfriends always get the good stuff while best friends always get the dirty stuff, it seemed.

“Alright,” Steve said, shutting the door again. “Ready?”

“Kind of,” Thomas said. He was squirming around in his seat and kept looking back at Mats for reassurance that this was a great idea. Mats refused to give him any.

It was like trying to give a shot to a little kid.

Thomas wiggled, yelled, and wouldn’t let Steve and Benni’s favorite needle get anywhere within the vicinity of his nose.

“Jesus God, Thomas!” Mats groaned after a good five minutes. “Were you listening to _anything_ Steve just told you? It doesn’t even hurt that much! Hell, I bet it’ll feel _good_ after that jellyfish sting.”

“What about you, young man? How bout I do you first, then he’ll see how it isn’t that bad?” Steve suggested.

Fueled by whatever feeling you get when your best friend is the biggest clown on the planet, Mats waited for Thomas to clamber off and then leapt into the chair.

“Do you wanna pick out a different piece of jewelry than your buddy?” Steve asked in reference to the tiny silver stud that he’d suggested for Thomas.

“No, I really don’t care,” said Mats.

Steve changed his gloves and inspected Mats’ nose while Mats stayed perfectly still. After concluding that it was indeed a good candidate for a piercing, he made Mats clean his nose out with a tissue. Then he prepared a fresh needle and did some more disinfecting. Mats braced himself.

There was pinch, and then it was over.

“See?” Mats said pointedly. “I, unlike you, can sit through a nose piercing because I, unlike you, am not eternally trapped in the mind of a first grader.”

“Yeah, but I, unlike you, do not have a hole in my nose, so therefore I, unlike you, will not be grounded for the rest of the year,” Thomas countered angrily.

Mats ignored him and thanked Steve, who took Mats’ payment and gave him some aftercare instructions and products in exchange. Then he marched out of the room to go see how Benni was holding up.

“You look… different,” Manuel said falteringly. “Where’s Thomas?”

Thomas emerged on cue, lacking any sort of piercing and looking some sort of combination of disappointment in himself and immense pride in his best friend.

But the best reaction was from Benni, who appeared to be shocked speechless until they were waiting for their table at a seafood restaurant and he whispered into Mats’ ear, “the more I know you, the more unpredictable you are, and I love it.”

Mats shivered happily. Benni reached up and dabbed Mats’ eyes dry; they were still watering heavily from the piercing.

“I’m so in love with you,” Benni whispered.

Meanwhile, Thomas was requesting a kid’s menu and some crayons while Manuel inquired about the remaining wait time.

“We’re just getting your table ready now,” the smiling hostess informed him.

“Great, thank you,” Manuel replied, and in that moment, he didn’t think he’d ever felt better in his life. He looked back at Benni and Mats, who were wrapped up in each other, both of them grinning at each other like they’d never witnessed anything more flawless in their life, and he couldn’t decided which one of them looked more in love with the other. He watched as Benni touched Mats’ nose with his finger, and then they both cracked up. It was a wonderful feeling, seeing his best friend finally happy. Then he looked at Thomas - _his_ Thomas - who was coloring furiously with his tongue sticking out between his lips.

 _Yep, never been better,_ Manuel concluded.

It was the best fried shrimp he’d ever had in his life…

Manuel was whipped back to the present when an announcement crackled over the loudspeaker.

“All athletes, cheerleaders, and band members are asked to please report to the football field at this time. Thank you.”

Manuel jumped up. Finally, he could get out of this boring biology lecture about the structure of atoms that make up life. He flashed his pass, which stated that he was an athlete and therefore permitted to be on the field for the pep rally while the rest of the school sat in the stands, to the teacher and sped out of the classroom.

\---

On the other side of the school, Benedikt heard the same announcement.

He crumpled up his athlete pass in his hand.

Thomas poked him with the tip of his pencil.

“Ouch!” Benedikt glared at Thomas while he rubbed his arm.

“Sorry,” Thomas said, looking not even remotely sorry, “but are you gonna go?”

Benedikt shook his head.

He’d really been looking forward to having psychology with Thomas, but he was pretty sure he was going to have lead poisoning by the end of the school year due to the Thomas’ apparent fondness for stabbing him with whatever writing utensil he was currently holding whenever he got an idea or a sudden burst of excitement.

“Why not?”

Benedikt debated this briefly. He didn’t plan on playing football in the spring, but that wasn’t an excuse since the team that was invited to the pep rally was technically the previous year’s time, minus the ones who had graduated.

Still, he didn’t really want to. He’d been on the field at the pep rally in all three previous years (including his freshman year, during which he’d played clarinet in the marching band). This year he wanted to be in the crowd.

“I’m not on the football team anymore,” he hissed.

“We’ve converted you to the dark side,” Thomas said gleefully. Then he fished through his backpack for the tube of paint he had in the senior class color, blue. “You want me to do you, or would you rather Mats - ”

“Thomas Müller! Do I really have to assign seats this early in the school year because of you?”

“No, ma’am,” Thomas said quickly, hastily dropping the paint and sitting up.

Benedikt snickered until the teacher looked at him and added, “you too, Benedikt. Just because you’re on the football team, doesn’t excuse you from behaving in class. You may go.”

It took him a moment and a lurch of the stomach to realize that he was not being kicked out of class, but being sent down to the pep rally. So he had no choice but to grab his backpack and leave the room.

“ _Staircase,_ ” he mouthed to Thomas before he left and hoped to god that he’d understand.

\---

Thomas, Mats, and Benedikt met up while the rest of the school crowded the hallways en masse. They headed into the bathroom together to paint their faces (Thomas painted his entire face and neck blue - there was even some in his hair, but that seemed to be unintentional; Mats and Benedikt would only let him paint one stripe across each of their cheeks) and then returned to the staircase. Apparently Manu had also gotten the memo, because he showed up clad in his football jersey and warmup, albeit looking quite stressed out.

Thomas jumped into his arms. “You can always change your mind, you know. You can still sit with us.”

Manu dropped a kiss onto his forehead and pulled back with slightly blue lips. “Sounds great, but I’m still on the team.”

Thomas closed his eyes and nodded, letting himself enjoy the warmth of his boyfriend before they were separated. As much as he’d hoped they might get to sit in the stands together, he understood. Manu loved football. That was his thing, just like how baking was Thomas’ thing and how Mats loved animals and how Benedikt had finally signed up to take an art elective this year, and Thomas would rather burn his own birthday cake than take that away from him.

“I’m proud of you,” he said so that just Manu could hear.

Manu squeezed him tighter. “Thanks for understanding.”

After they finally let go, Manu took off his warm up jacket and handed it to Thomas, who took it a little too eagerly and jammed his right arm into the left sleeve. Manu chuckled and helped him fix it.

“There. Now everyone will know who you’re supporting.” He started to jog back down the stairs. “Gotta run. Catch ya later, doofus.”

“Bye, fatty,” Thomas called and blew a kiss.

Mats rolled his eyes and turned to Benedikt. “I’m really glad we don’t have any stupid nicknames for each other.”

“I can change that, if you want,” Benedikt replied with a smirk. “Hot stuff.”

“Piglet,” Mats countered. “Cause you’re all pink and cute.”

“Pooh Bear, cause you’re sweet like honey.”

“Canopus, because you’re the second brightest star in the night sky.”

“What? How do you even know that? Also, who’s the brightest then if it’s not me?” Benedikt said.

“I’d actually say you’re the brightest, but the brightest just happens to be Sirius and I’m reluctant to start what could turn into a Harry Potter pun war.”

“Whatever, you’re a nerd.”

“Geek.”

“Dweeb.”

“Cocksucker.”

“Whoa,” Benedikt said. “That escalated quickly. Potty mouth.”

“Hey, how about this,” Thomas said loudly. “Both of you are turds, now let’s go.”

Thomas waited until the conversation was all but over to add, “but you’ll always be barf boy to me, Mats.”

Mats would’ve tripped him had they not already been climbing up the bleachers.

\---

It was a little cool outside, and it felt a bit like it was about to storm. Mats wrapped his arms around himself and stared enviously at Thomas in his too-big jacket with _NEUER_ printed on the back in bold white letters. He wished he were back at the beach, laying in the warm sand and watching Benni’s stomach rise and fall as he breathed until he felt himself drifting away too until he closed his eyes, still feeling and loving every second of Benni’s presence.

His mind wandered to his nose piercing while they waited for everyone to get situated and the pep rally to start.

He had not been yelled at, but instead praised by his father, who said that it made him look “grown up.” Better yet, the healing process was going over quite well. He was cleaning the piercing like he was supposed to and nothing too painful had occurred yet. It did feel a bit weird at first, but he got used to it quickly enough. In fact, the only time he experienced any sort of pain was when he forgot that he had a freshly pierced nose and touched his face in a way that pulled the piercing. He’d learned not to yawn too widely or blow his nose too hard or smile too big.

The best part about it, though, was how he felt about himself. He was actually happy with his senior picture, and coupled with all the new clothes Benni was still helping him pick out, the nose piercing was the best thing to ever happen to Mats’ self confidence. He noticed that there were people in the hallway and in class, namely girls, who would stare at him and smile coyly. Even the teachers were treating him differently, with more respect. At first, he’d thought it was all due to the fact that he’d switched up his wardrobe, but eventually concluded it was a result of the way he was carrying himself and not how he looked.

This was confirmed by Benni, who couldn’t stop telling Mats how confident he seemed and how in love with him he was.

Mats had decided that the only bad thing about the piercing was that he had to lay off on kissing Benni too hard until it was fully healed.

Cheers erupted throughout the stadium. Everyone was standing up, and Mats felt compelled to stand up and cheer too. He looked over at his friends; Thomas stood out with his black jacket in the sea of blue t-shirts, and Benni was smiling widely, his hair much blonder and his skin very brown despite the pink burns on his cheeks.

“That doesn’t hurt your sunburn anymore?” Mats asked in reference to Benni’s grin.

“It stings a bit, but I think that’s just the paint.”

“I told you to put on sunscreen.”

Benni rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mom. _Take care of yourself, Benedikt, you’re so fragile._ I mean, come on, I’m not even that pale…”

“Under here you are,” Mats said. He reached under Benni’s shirt and tickled him.

Benni slapped him away and gave him a hard look that read, _I like that but now is not the time._

“Enough about my face. How’s your nose?”

Mats flared his nostrils and smiled the smile he reserved for his boy only. “In working order. I think I’ll start letting you kiss me again soon. Now that you’re all smiley again it’s hard to resist.”

Benni tried to respond, but another enormous cheer drowned him out so he settled for a thumbs up.

The cheerleaders had opened with their routine, the marching band performed their show, and then all the sports teams were introduced. It was time for the class competitions. There would be several contests out on the field with the athletes representing their respective classes, and then the final contest would involve everyone in the stands and see which class could cheer the loudest.

“So glad I don’t have to do that this year,” Benni said during the wheelbarrow leg of the relay race. “I got stuck being the wheelbarrow with Lukas sophomore year, but I made sure that he was the one who had to crawl on his hands and not me.”

Mats remembered that. In fact, he remembered Benni’s parts in all of the pep rallies. Pep rallies and football games were the only times he was allowed to gawk without being noticed.

The last contest was the hula hoop competition, for which Manuel was the senior representative. He ended up placing a respectable second, but judging from Thomas’ reaction you’d’ve thought that he’d just won the World Cup. In normal circumstances Mats would’ve told him to shut up, but he had to admit he’d be pretty psyched himself if he’d gotten to see Benni sway his hips around like that, too.

The emcee rushed through much of rally, citing the looming thunderstorm as a reason, so the cheering contest arrived quicker than expected. The freshmen went first, and the farthest end of the stands exploded into screams, waving green banners and stomping their feet. The freshmen always did pretty well as they were still so excited about starting high school. The sophomores in white and the juniors in red usually flopped. But the seniors, wanting to make their last year a good one and rekindling their school spirit, always went all out.

Mats almost wanted to cover his ears when it was the seniors’ turn. People threw up blue balloons and then popped them. Someone in a tight blue bodysuit was crowdsurfing. After a moment of shock, Mats opened his mouth and yelled, too.

It was the proudest he’d ever felt to be at his school.

\---

The drizzle was starting just as everyone was filing out of the bleachers after the senior class was crowned with the spirit stick. While everyone was far more pumped up than they’d been while coming in, there was also a frantic feel about the crowd. The marching band usually played pep tunes on the way out, but they had had to go inside to pack up their instruments to avoid being caught in the downpour. And just when the last tuba player was out of sight, downpour it did.

Thomas had raced off to go find Manuel before either Mats or Benedikt could say goodbye. All his life, he’d secretly dreamed of two things: kissing in the rain, and kissing in front of everyone. Right now couldn’t have been a better opportunity.

He managed to find Manu even though the paint running into his eyes was blurring his vision. Manu’s football jersey was starting to stick to his skin from the rain.

“Thomas?” Manu was puzzled by Thomas’ urgency.

“Kiss me,” Thomas demanded.

“Wha - okay.”

Thomas took Manu’s head between his hands, tilting him down slightly and slamming their mouths together. A warmth spread from Thomas’ belly all the way around his body. He knew that people could see the two of them, not caring one bit about the storm, as everyone else rushed inside for cover, and that only propelled his desire. He slid his tongue against Manu’s and let out a quiet moan that was felt more than it was heard.

A clap of thunder and bright flash of lightning overtook the stadium. Thomas noticed neither.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no update!
> 
> It's short, but I hope you will be satisfied with it. Thank you for joining me on this journey and please leave me with your final thoughts♡

***Valentine’s Day, one year later***

In hindsight, it seemed silly how consumed Benedikt had always been by the idea of getting a Clandestine Cupid.

He knew they were a sure symbol of popularity. But Benedikt had always known he was popular. He didn’t need a bag of candy to remind him.

So when Mats Hummels had taken a battered box of grocery store chocolates out of his string bag a year ago, that’s when Benedikt finally understood. He didn’t want a bag of candy. He just wanted someone to care about him.

Coincidentally, Benedikt was in Mr. Hummels’ 3rd period computer class when the Cupids were delivered his senior year of high school. The last Cupid delivery he’d ever experience.

Knowing that the delivery of the Cupids would cause a distraction, Mr. Hummels had given a free period for the class to mess around with the computers while he talked about the time Mats was late for his first day of high school because the lock had broken while he’d been trying to get out of the bathroom and they’d had to call the locksmith in order to let him out.

“And after the guy left, he was begging to stay home cause he thought it would be embarrassing to walk in late. What’s with all you teenagers and thinking that everything is so embarrassing? I mean, come on, folks. People are way too busy thinking about themselves to give a sh- ahem, to care about what you’re doing. Anyways, I was late to work too, so I took Mats to school and brought him to his class and if there’s anything he learned that day, it’s that walking into your first day of high school late is _way_ less embarrassing than walking into your first day of high school late with your very embarrassing dad following behind you - ”

Benedikt had a feeling there was more to the story, but he had to make a mental note to ask Mats more about it later, because right now, the class officers were coming in with the Cupids.

The usual scene erupted. And Benedikt watched it all with great amusement.

What he wasn’t expecting, though, was for one of the Cupids to drop in front of his keyboard.

An actual Clandestine Cupid. For Benedikt. From a person who cared.

His stomach spun. His fingers trembled a bit. He untied the note from the candy gram and read it:

**Hey cutie pie :) Mats was taking too long to think of what to write and the junior class president is giving us the stink eye so I’m writing it for him. LOL. Ugh I have no lunch. Also Mats just told me I need to dot my i’s.**

Then the handwriting changed to what Benedikt recognized as Mats’:

_That was Thomas. I really don’t know what to write cause I suck at words and stuff and also I’m not sure who reads these things, so I’ll just let the cupid speak for itself :)_

_From: Xoxox Matsi_ **and Thomas <333333**

And speak for itself it did.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! Comments are love, comments are life, and I wanna hear from y'all!


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